Seperated in Pittsburgh
by NxnsxgnorsDxmon
Summary: Monsignor Timothy Howard announces Jude's formal abolition from Briarcliff, as a result of the offered position for her in Pittsburgh and his intentions of protecting her from the barbarous, former Nazi war criminal, known as the doctor of scientist, den and his abominations. Is the nun going to accept the offer?
1. Confrontation

After pacing in the profound, almost endless hallways of the old, grandiose, gradually demolishing asylum, the juvenile, aspiring man of the cloth was more than determined to confront the doctor of scientist after his initial rebuttal of his right hand's words about the sonly committed patient's story she knew about Arthur, Charlotte Brown, known as the fake "Anne Frank".

At first, Timothy didn't want to believe the hired former Nazi war criminal is as sinisterly barbarous as Jude portrayed him, via Charlotte's story when she spoke to her in person in her austere office. Nonetheless after the heating debates between the members of the church, Timothy overthought it twice as he thought it would be wiser and more mature to confront one of the biggest Jude's foes, instead instantly believing her utterance without speaking in person with .

The solemn classic music which played on the gramophone disk in Arthur's office, floating in the background as if a classical symphony was recently playing on live in the opera, hence, the elder man was distracting himself, thrumming inwardly, melodically to himself, matching along with the symphony's instrumental.

In the interim, the younger man's mammoth, milky as snow hand met the doorknob, opening it discreetly which was readily oblivious for Arthur, who was somehow utterly focused on his wee distraction especially when there aren't any visitors. Neither patients, nor any nuns or orderlies.

His humming was sufficiently audible for him only as if he was the sole inhabitant in his cozy, nevertheless, bizarrely uninviting office.

As soon as Timothy entered inside 's office by leaving the door opened askew, subsequently he gripped his rosary beads, balling it in his fist and socking the gramophone's needle that kept the gramophone's disk playing looped until the music faded in the background, ebbing its monotonous instrumental. It caught the older man off guard, turning to the spontaneous visitor, who has just set a foot into his office as if a trespasser in a godforsaken, demolished for ages property is exploring on his own.

Initially, the former Nazi war criminal was beyond flabbergasted as his mouth was slightly agape, contracting his jawline in shock by contemplating his boss's shorter figure standing behind the doorway.

"I'm sorry. Would you have preferred Mozart?" The older man enquired dryly as their eyes met, locking up his chocolate brown orbs, filled with searing nuances of lividness, abhorrent and seriousness.

"Jude was right about you!" In the meantime, he balled into his fist the rosary beads, lightly extending his hand to point with an index finger directly at him as an arrow. "You're a monster." His extended hand quivered faintly, baring his teeth.

"Why do you look for the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye," Meanwhile, the doctor walked away from his hardwood bureau by bowing lightly his head, followed by his gait, whereas Timothy's chocolate brown orbs were incessantly transfixed on the barbaric tormentor. "And pay no attention to the plank in your own?" He resumed his utterance by strolling up to his boss, emphasizing the last words in his retaliated question.

"I saw that girl," The holy man stuttered, struggling to spell the syllables, hemming reluctantly due to their proximity as the gape was almost sealed, facing the much taller, masculine figure. "What you did to Shelly."

"All in the name of progress. Isn't that what we agreed upon?" Rhetorical inquiry lingered on the elder man's tongue, looking up at him glassily.

"No, you told me this was for the greater good." He clutched even firmer his other free hand into a balled fist, casting a glaring grimaced look at him as his voice sounded rather hoarser with menacing pigments, tinting it. "You mutilated her!" He rose his voice as its decibels were higher than the usual.

"Perhaps. But you're missing the entire point. Briarcliff is a receptacle for human waste. Each patient a perfect example of an evolutionary failure." Meantime, Arthur approached his desk by seating on it. "My aim was to give these wasted lives purpose, meaning, and I've succeeded beyond my wildest imagination. My experiments with a combination of syphilis and tuberculosis have produced results unseen in the history of medical science. When they arrived here, these patients were less than men. Now, because of me, they're more than human." Sundry times his smaller sized eyeballs blinked as his monologue proceed, attempting to defend himself against his accusation, reclining leisurely on his chair. During his monologue, Timothy vaguely ducked his head as his hazelish-brown orbs timidly looked down as his mouth was agape being beyond eerily shocked by Arthur's explaination. "Would you care to see what your benevolence has produced? Witness the next stage of human evolution." In the meantime, the older gentleman got from his bureau as he ambled up to his laboratory, his shoes clicking against the cement's cold, dull flooring, whilst the younger one escorted him without an ado.

When the both men entered inside the maliciously fiendish doctor's laboratory, Spivey was beyond despaired, laying on the patient's bed by scarcely moving a single muscle after experiencing the rough, sinister torture.

"Have you lost your mind? Why on earth would you do this?" The English aristocratic emigrant posed the question gravely as he fixed his chocolate brown irises with obnoxious disgust and loathe at the wretched soul, who was lying in disheveled and half-dead condition.

"Why? When the Russians launch their nuclear missiles, 20 million Americans will be incinerated instantly. Another 20 million will suffer a slow, agonizing death. Natural selection would have weeded out the weak, but only over the course of time. Whereas I have managed to improve the species now, so that we can survive the atomic blast, live through the radiation and become dominant once again." In this moment, the mortified priest inspected from closer the mutilated body of Spivey, positioned on the patient bed as morbid panic was sketched upon his pale as ghost, parchment complexion.

"You should be locked away."

"With you to keep me company? We're in this together, Father. Remember? You gave me your blessing, along with the facility and the subjects."

"If you do open that window, the light will illuminate everything in Briarcliff. And I mean everything." Meantime as the holy man was about to flee the former Nazi war criminal's laboratory after witnessing one of the most abominable things as a piece of evidence about Arden's not only cryptical past, moreover blood-curling present and collecting piece of evidence as a witness for jailing him for ages, he blackmailed Jude's boss with exposing the mental hospital and its atrocities behind the dull walls. Baleful panic enveloped his heart in an ebony envelop, panting jadedly as he halted without successfully fleeing the barbaric doctor's area.

"Yes, that's what I thought. Now, you listen to me. You and I have nothing to fear from each other. However, we do have a threat in common. We both know where the real danger lies." At last but not least, Arthur kept on with his diabolic, acrimoniously calm riposte as Timothy's heart raced as the riposte advanced.

As Arthur emphasized real danger, subsequently he meant Jude was the threat by not only endangering his work, further, the facility's reputation with her opposition against him and protecting it from his vicious claws, which are responsible for relentlessly mutilating and murdering patients, besides their disappearance is part of his responsibility.

Ocean of still-in-progress for answering questions flooded the priest's mind with instability of solving them within seconds by determining her position whether declaring her official removal as a head of Briarcliff or otherwise letting his goose being cooked with its gruesome blackmail in exposing the notorious mental institution.

After a quarter an hour in confronting and being blackmailed, the Monsignor was more than determined to speak in person with his favorite nun, whereas she was in her austere, old-fashioned office, uttering the final words before adjusting the earpiece to the pitch-black, waxen phone:

"Fine. We'll be expecting you." In the interval, the younger man entered in his right hand's office by closing and shutting behind him the door. "Monsignor, crisis averted!" Her heart leaped as it raced in anticipation of his presence in her office lastly. Girlish, coy euphoria daubed her heart and exclaimation as their eyes met, locking up his stare as he bobbed down his head, glimpsing down until their stares linked again. "I mean, she-she went off and-and left her daughter here, as if we're some kind of personal child care facility." The middle-aged lady stuttered as a joyous, benevolent grin honed up in the corner of her naturally rosy-coloured, soft lips as her ivory, yet firm teeth gleamed. "For heaven's sakes, what is that expression on your face, Timothy?" Slight, sheepish as a schoolboy smile cradled his berry-coloured, dry lips as the blonde wondered for his intentions as an urgent message lingered on his tongue.

"It seems Briarcliff's become quite a burden for you."

"No, no! We just had a few, uh, difficult days, but the order has been restored," As the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer was in her mid-sentence by bumbling as her lip curled, he cut her off curtly, coarsely. The heartbeats accelerated heavily by infecting with its frequency, double ounce in her chest.

"Sister, I've contacted a colleague, Father Bernard, in Pittsburgh. He's just opened a home for wayward girls. I've recommended you highly to run it." At the moment, his hands were behind his lower back as the sister of the church's jaw constricted in an agape, being beyond unconditionally aghast by his decision and offer by working in one of the homes for wayward girls in Pittsburgh. Far away from , one of her biggest foes. Far away from her mentor and mother figure, Mother Claudia. Far away from her protégé and favorite, once innocent and taintless nun, Sister Mary Eunice. Far away from her favorite priest, whom her damned feelings on him haven't pottered out even when the betrayal pierced as a honed dagger in her ribs, marvelous, thick waterfall of blood spurted from the fresh slit area.

"Are you firing me?" The holy woman questioned timidly.

"You've lost your way. You need a new beginning. You're booked on a plane out of Logan Airport, Friday morning, 8:30 a.m."

All of a sudden, the blonde walked away from her desk by zinging up to the Monsignor.

"This is...this is all about Dr. Arden, isn't it?" She stammered by clutching her petite, creamy as satin hands into fists.

"Dr. Arden is not the issue here!" The devotional member of the clergy rejoined, gritting his teeth.

" is the entire issue here!" In the meanwhile, the administrator of the mental institution riposted with incensed voice, baring her teeth as her honey brown irises were darted to his as his face softened momentarily as a unflustered, desolated homeless puppy. "He's turned you against me. But I was right about him."

"Pack your things, Sister!" The last words which were spat out directly as a serpentine venom, dumbfounded the middle-aged woman as soon as her boss fled her office and clamping with an elvish, milky as vanilla hand her mouth.

She was beyond astounded by him and the expectancies of the confrontation between the doctor and the priest as she could feel no longer fated to run the mental hospital. The love of her life believed blindly or rather let Arthur blackmail him instead of allowing the consequences assault him with swarm of ordeals, blocking his way to collaborate normally with his rare bird.

The sole version she ceaselessly believed was it was the doctor of scientist who turned her love interest against her and begs for her discharge in running the facility as she's being conveyed into another one especially in the small city of Pennsylvania, where she would never behold the member of the clergy's indisputably handsome, bashful face ever again, recalling each fragment of his physical traits such as his warming as hot morning coffee chocolate brown orbs, followed his megawatt, sympathetic smile, thriving on his berry-coloured lips. His silver-tongued, British, velvety voice which molted her heart and electroshocked her body muscles as goosebumps effloresced as plants on her pale as snow, creamy as baby head's skin. Velvety voice ringing angelic, sacred anthems in her sensitive, small ears as if they listened to the chirping birds' songs in the woods, engraving positive vibes.

The truth was in the middle. She believed Arthur entirely manipulated the love of her life, besides he stands behind the blackmail as a plotted conspiracy against her. That was her version. Little did she know what else resurfaced as an iceberg in the mist, grandiose ocean of fewest truths they the least resurfaced after the answers she's looked for were solved eventually.

Additionally, what the younger man wanted to do was to protect his right favorite nun by sending her away by offering her to be employed in the home for wayward girls in Pittsburgh from the barbarous Dr. Arden as the almost future Cardinal didn't want his rara avis being either the imminent victim of the inhumane, unrealistic experiments or their bile rose up in one another's throats, due to the fact, the holy woman was maternally and professionally concerned for the inmates for their welfare and aiding them to find path to the light and God as the darkness has already diminished the translucency of the light. Furthermore, the mysterious disappearance of certain patients were distressing Jude, herself, by questioning one of the least harmless staff members inside the monumental, old façade.

Although everything else, Judy was more than determined to store her paraphernalia in her leather suitcases along with garments, prominent belongings, the Holy Bible, her ravishing red silken slip and so forth. The crucial, howsoever, sole issue she had was she didn't have any money stay in motel for a handful of days by booking for herself a room until Friday, when she shouldn't miss her flight for Pittsburgh as it's reserved, thanks to her former boss.

A handful of hours have elapsed since Jude and Timothy's confront in her office, resulting accepting the offer to take the flight to Pittsburgh and accept her new job's position by evading Arthur without hesitancy.

Moreover, she preferred tonight to flee Briarcliff by staying in a motel for a few days as she was folding some of her attires, thereafter stashing them in the suitcase.

Her lion mane of silky old Hollywood honey curls were coiffed in a messy, casual bun, framing ideally her still gorgeous complexion with slight wrinkles for the midlife stage of her life. A mere, long sleeved ebony as devilish onyx dress, knee length with boat neckline hugged her slender, still appealing body with lacking signs of wrinkles and aging, tattooed naturally on any inch of her mossy flesh, snaking it. Her petite feet were shoed in black, classy stilettos as they perfectly matched with her outfit.

Suddenly, the oblivious sudden presence of masculine figure, tiptoeing to her askew bedroom's opened door propped on the doorframe, contemplating his sole loyal friend saying farewell metaphorically to the institution by storing her belongings along with anything else which she possesses.

Frank whistled in low voice to himself as it was solely audible for him, ringing absent tunes in his ears by removing his cap, in order to rub uneasily his head with his fingertips.

When the former administrator of the mental hospital for criminally insane turned to the dresser to gather her sheer as an angel, white, ordinary, ankle length nightgown by folding it, she startled by clamping with a single hand her mouth. Her honey brown orbs illuminated the suddenness of the franticness, which airbrushed its igniting flame.

"Oh, Frank! Ya scared the shit out of me."

"It's alright, Sistah! I didn't know ya are about to leave very soon." The former cop strolled up to her by surveying the recently stored remarkable items as a piece of luggage. His mildly wrinkled temple creased by arching an eyebrow at noting the scarlet red silky nightie, mingling with the rest of the attires.

"Well, those are my opportunities, Frank! Nothing more than just staying away from that Nazi doctor, who's responsible for maiming the poor Shelley!" In this moment, Judy heaved a weary sigh, pulsating from the top of her brittle lungs.

"I think there's something else than just , that Nazi bastard to be the reason why you're leaving tonight." After she picked up the white nightgown by folding it gingerly, properly and heaping it as a part of the baggage, afterwards she turned to the former police officer, raising an eyebrow elegantly. "For example, yar favorite Monsignor!"

"Oh, Frank!" She cried out loud, sighing dramatically again by nibbling on her bottom, plumpish lip at the thought of her love interest which lingered on the middle-aged man's tongue. "What a coincidence of being offered a position in home for wayward girls and being thrown away from yar own home, or perhaps, only home ever in yar life, besides yar life which is focused on saving wretched souls instead of postponing of doing something for the others' good!" Husky, wry chuckle tickled the corners of her oral caverns which bewildered her favorite employee even more.

"What does that mean?"

"With other words, he didn't have any intentions of believing me and instead, I'm going to accept the Pittsburgh offer."

"Oh! At least, Dr. Arden won't be there anymore to be part of your concern!"

"That's amidst the good things about Pittsburgh. But I can't believe why the Monsignor can be such naïve little boy."

"I'm certain, he's either disappointed by ya or he just wants your safety instead being on Arden's patient bed and torture ya with his inhumane experiments, ya know!"

"He wants my welfare?" Another hoarse, sarcastic giggle quivered the corners of her mouth, bearing a semblance of an earthquake. "Think again, Frank! As ya said, they're never going to accept a woman in charge especially as strong as am I."

"That's goddamn right, Jude! That's what I'm telling ya from a while since this goody-two shoes, Timothy Howard, is trying to bamboozle ya with his birds and honeyed speeches that the things would never work as you wished." Meanwhile, what the middle-aged lady felt bracing as strong, muscular arms circa her shoulders by pulling her in a tight, warm hug from behind which caused a tad franticness, painted upon her flushed complexion as sanguine pigment tinted her cheeks with additional heat, her ivory as emeralds teeth clattered inwardly as it was only audible for her, fortunately. "If he does it for yar safety, he'd give a damn about ya, at least."

"Language, Frank!" She retorted as she melted into the hug, biting her bottom lip again as the heart pulses were affixed with cement, increasing its frequency. "W-What are ya doing?"

"I'm just giving you a friendly hug! Can't I?"

"O-Of course, ya can!" Meantime, she turned to him by throwing her arms around his upper back as an agitated child as one of her parents came to pick her up from the kindergarten, being clung to the absorbed warmness which built. She shut temporarily her eyelids as blinds, relishing the warmhearted moment of being embraced and platonically doted.

Little did she know how long it has been when a representative of the opposite sex has treated her normally after the guys in her past life as a jazz nightclub singer have brought her nothing than just trouble.

"Where do you plan to go now?"

"I'm about to stay in motel."

Shortly after they broke off the hug, the former cop discreetly took off some money by handing it to Jude, offering her for reserving for a few nights a motel room until the day when the plane leaves Boston for Pittsburgh without missing it.

She gawked the cash as if somebody was offering her to savor from the blandest dish by lightly pushing away his hand, shaking her head in disagreement, pursing her lips.

"No, no, no! That's so kind of ya, Frank! Keep them for ya!"

"I just cannot leave ya without money and homeless. Take them! Ya won't regret afterwards." Instead of demonstrating disrespect, she affably, remorsely took the offered sum of cash for the motel, patting amiably, featherly his shoulder with a humble, blameless smile, bloomed on her rosy-coloured lips.

"Why thank you, Frank! I really appreciate it." The blonde was beyond nonplussed by his goodwill which resurrected his benevolent, affectionate nature. She didn't long to bicker with her ex-employee.

"Always, Jude! I'll genuinely miss ya, ya know!"

"Of course!" She bobbed modestly her head, affirming his words by bearhugging him for last time just moments before fleeing the office and leaving lacks of tracks of her disappearance in the middle of the night. The tight, affable embrace lasted even than longer a minute. "It's probably going to be our last time seeing one another before the paths separate us."

A handful of minutes later after the head of security guard and the nun said Farewell to one another, afterwards they fled the austere office as Judy grasped in one of her elvish hands the suitcase with her unique belongings in the dim light, profound, abysmal hallway of the asylum as the sudden sound of opening door from Timothy's office checked the mystifying silhouette of the middle-aged woman, who paced in the corridor as her stilettos clicked against the cemented flooring, producing monotonous choir of clicks.

His chocolate brown orbs which were fueled with arrant fatigue as the eyelids' heaviness barely allowed him to blink freely, an indifferent frown spread across his lips by wondering who's the mysterious lady, dressed up in different outfit than the common dark, wool attires that once concealed each inch of her ageless, soft as velvet skin. He knew his right hand as Sister Jude only. Not as another character, shadowing the sister of the Roman Catholic church's personage.

When the blonde passed through the double front door, subsequently she delved into her purse, rummaging for her car keys by finding them within a split second as she approached the vehicle, consequently unlocking it by getting inside the cab and driving herself to the forthcoming destination. The motel.


	2. When the Destiny Brings us Back Together

The evening hours were elapsing lento as if centuries were elapsing until the imminent sunrise dawned as the moonset looms in the grayish azure sky.

Even a quarter an hour after the mysterious woman as the hallway's darkness shadowed her figure as it abided an unsolved mystery for Timothy, himself, he thought it might be one of the patients' visitors, due to her casual or rather unholy outfit for his hallowed pools as the holy water might be the sole armor against anything unhallowed for his sight.

His bottom berry-coloured curled indisposedly after his recited in murmur evening prayer in his dim lit office as his tall, masculine silhouette perfectly reflected on the pale gilt wall as if a shadow of beast resided the austere, old-fashioned office. His chocolate brown orbs blankly, colder, howsoever, drab pigments tinged the ignited flames in them as they were keep dancing its fire dance were fixed on the wooden framed photo of his favorite nun, posing next to him as he kept storing this prominent paraphernalia of his in one of his bureau's drawers since in the nuthouse was a policy the personal or memorable paraphernalia shouldn't be in anybody's bare hands. He has contemplated the old vintage photo of him, posing next to Jude just after their successful mission in Boston's outskirts, in order to save hive of wretched, lost souls.

The vintage photo spoke volumes as they were worth thousand of words to be described instead just in a sentence. Their radiant, shining smiles flashed upon their porcelain, pale as ghosts complexions and their dark, hazel irises darted directly to the camera with its vibrant nuances illuminated their pair of irises, affecting their general mood.

Furthermore, they resembled a married couple for a long time as their postures were readily apparent, sketched upon their figures. Nevertheless, the church was as restricting as the jail. They were sacred, devotional servants of God and the ecclesiastical duties, in order to conceal each fragment of their dark pasts including heartbreaks, marriage, dating, sex, romance and so forth. On the contrary, if they posed for the same photo without being disguised as a priest and a nun, otherwise it would be much different.

As he judged the photograph, it wasn't older than a half a decade ago, just months after their first encounter and choosing her as his right hand, proudly calling her his own rara avis.

He gripped the wooden framed photograph, scrutinizing it as his other hand's long, adroit fingers tipped lightly her gloriously rejoicing face as he somewhat commenced blaming himself for being as impulsively coarse as he eventually behaved hours ago especially during their heated argument about Arden. What the holy man yearned was Jude's security as he plotted her convey to another institution as she doesn't lose her clerical possessions and title, besides opening a new chapter of her life especially in Pittsburgh.

"I'm so sorry for my anger, rare bird! I just wanted you to be safe as I don't want you to be the next craved victim of !" Mellowed in firm British accent mumble zinged his berry-coloured lips as if he could picture the apology he owed Judy as she solely believed the version of her removal from the mental hospital is her love interest was ultimately manipulated and bamboozled under the bewitching spell of Arthur's cunning words. "I'm just sorry! I want your safety as I don't want you to be as mutilated as Shelley. You don't deserve her fate!" His mumble bear a semblance of a sermonized prayer, lingering on his tongue. He closed his eyes for awhile, allowing to snuggle the framed photograph as his heart beats' frequency diminished, subsequently, baptizing them in clamminess of its pulsation.

A handful of minutes later, he fled the office by leaving the wooden-framed photo sitting motionlessly on the hardwood desk as he determined himself to pay a visit to the older woman's office, making sure if she's feeling better.

The pitch-black darkness in her former office was overlooked by him as he rapped a few times on the mosaic glass door, emitting sounds by keeping whether her or somebody else's wits about his sudden presence in the middle of the night.

"Jude? Jude? It's Timothy!" Moments before starting to tap on the door, he cleared his throat as he took a deep breath and glimpsing in the both abysmal, vaguely dim lit corridor, in case, if anybody from the staff members doesn't question him at all. He double checked in the hallway's both directions by throwing a quick glance just seconds before thwacking on her office door louder, despite no response, nor no action loomed. "Rare bird? Is everything alright?" Initially, the member of the clergy thought she was grouchy with him, in fact, their heating debate was the core of her crabby, indifferent demeanor tonight without allowing any visitors to pay a visit to her office even if it's for a split second, according to the version he solely believed.

The silence replied him as her absence was oblivious for him until his mammoth, lukewarm hand met the office door's doorknob, subsequently twisting it as he opened askew the door, peeking through the gap even when the darkness shadowed almost everything which motionlessly was on its place.

Neither a feminine, petite figure welcomed him kindheartedly in the austere, empty office as it sunk in the jet back veiling gloaming.

In the meanwhile, the man of the cloth entered inside his rara avis's old, former office by shutting the door behind him, in case, if somebody surprises him and endangers him with his presence whether one of the most dubious patients or since he feared of him, besides exalting him as an addition to the name of the progress, although his barbarous experiments.

His oxford shoes clicked against the cemented flooring as he walked in each corner of the office, surveying it as he found out her pair of eyeglasses along with her rosary beads were gone.

"Jude?" His honeyed whisper sounded as an echo in the numbing barrens. Further, the British aristocrat was all ears to hear any sound which takes its place whether in the office or otherwise in the en-suite bedroom, linked to the office.

The heart beats' frequency pulsation invigorated in his constricting chest as if a ghost was haunting him as his body muscles weakened at the desolation along with the darkness. The darkness wasn't problematic for him at all. Nonetheless, the desolation spoke volumes as if it betokening animus cowed the murmurs that were dying as they once danced on his tongue, ready to spit them out.

At last but not least, the heavy pulsation of his hammering flimsy heart pulsated into his ears as if its heart beats were solely audible for him unlike the further sounds such as footsteps, reluctant clinks and clicks, desperate bewails of the jailed patients in their wards.

His impending destination was literally the en-suite bedroom after inspecting the office within a few minutes without resulting any tracks of her peculiar absence.

Throughout he clutch tightly his colossal, veiny hand into a balled fist, consequently patting lightly, wondering if she was asleep in the wee hours of midnight or mulling everything which happened earlier today without kipping.

"Jude? Jude?" He repeated the raps on the en-suite bedroom's door as she didn't reply. Perhaps the silence answered him again. "If you aren't sleeping, therefore may I speak to you in person, if you don't mind?"

He awaited a quarter a minute for her response, inhaling inwardly the stiff office air, flaring his sensitive nostrils as his eyes lowered momentarily to the doorknob, thereafter opening it within milliseconds until the door creaked, witnessing her ultimate disappearance from the facility.

"Rare bird?" An inner voice echoed in his mind after his weary, brittle chocolate brown pools which frequently blinked noted his right hand's evanescence.

Consequently he stepped in the room as he was beyond flabbergasted it wasn't locked along with her office since she's no longer working in the madhouse, besides the heart beats were severer and building its additional ounce, encumbering his body. He inspected the bedroom as he checked every drawer of the dresser where she once stored up her garments such as the sheer angelic cotton white nightgown which was accorded to every nun, her sinful, diabolic succumbing bloody red satin negligee with the unholy, ravishing scent of flowers. Everything was gone.

Little did he know where the former administrator of the mental institution was as the location was unidentified for him yet as a paradoxal mystery.

"Monsignor," It was the possessed juvenile nun who snapped him out of his train of thoughts as she propped on the en-suite bedroom door's askew opened door, studying each manner and body language of the vulnerable priest, chewing her bottom, plumpish lip. Suddenly Timothy turned timidly to the fragile nun, whose Satan's essence smeared every cell and muscle of hers.

"She's gone. I don't have any clue where she might be." He sighed a sigh of relief as his heart raced after noticing Judy's favorite protégé. In the meantime, the young blonde's tongue clicked, tipping the roof of her mouth.

"Oh, Monsignor! Don't worry about Sister Jude! Your favorite old whore is gone." Meanwhile, Mary Eunice clumsily, playfully played with the buttons of her habit, strolling up to Timothy as she opted to horrify him with each took step as their proximity was closing its gap, despite Timothy attempted to flee the en-suite bedroom of his love interest, pursing self-effacingly his berry-coloured, damp lips.

At the moment, the holy man can note his rare bird's protégé bizarre demeanor as a couple of questions deluged his mind.

For example, what's the core of her bizarre demeanor especially lately and now? Is she possessed by the devil and its vile essence dwelling inside her? If yes, is it possible the devil leaving Jed's body by finding a new home especially in the orphan's body as it was one of the essential reasons why she fainted after the fiendish teenager's decease and Timothy and Oliver's attempts to save his life?

"Frank? Carl?" The British aristocrat yelled, trying to grab either of the orderlies or security guards' attention so that to drag the blonde off Judy's old office by being strapped on a bed, sedated and perform an exorcism on her on the morning after along with Father Malachi and .

"Nobody can't help you, Father! Even the old whore can't rescue you from the vicious cycle."

"Shut your filthy mouth, Sister!" He sternly, dryly wailed at her, opting to survive her vicious claws which verged to touch any inch of him as he was about to flee the office, evading Mary Eunice's scoffing taunting. Meantime, wicked, devilish snicker rang in his ears, resulting the possessed sister of the church's hyperbolical seriousness as she escorted Timothy as she was almost a feet away from him as he didn't dare to turn to her.

"Frank? Carl?"

"Oh, Father! Don't you ever think of any orderlies or security guards to strap me on the fucking bed and being exorcised! Is that what you thought of?"

All of a sudden, horde of security guards including the former Irish police officer, Frank, sped up after hearing the exceeding bewail of Timothy, colliding into the dull walls of the asylum as radioactive waves.

"What's matter, Monsignor?" Frank asked begrudgingly, panting as they approached promptly the Monsignor, while the possessed juvenile holy woman struggled to approach her recent target.

"Mary Eunice is possessed and her demeanor is urgently odd! You should just strap her on a bed by sedating her and I'll call Father Malachi along with Dr. Clarkson to exorcise the demon of her body tomorrow the morning."

"Accepted, Monsignor!" Frank nodded his head, affirming his words as he and his colleagues trapped the young nun by dragging her in the old asylum's lobby in the women's wing as emotional protests, wriggles into their callous and tight grips attempted to grab somebody's attention, in order to rescue her as a smug, slight smile swayed across the Monsignor's lips.

"Please, Monsignor! Anybody help me! They're dragging me off with what I haven't finished." Terrified bemoan rejoined as she felt outnumbered by the swarm of security guards, who were escorting her to a free cell by imprisoning her.

The former policeman with the other security guards ignored the impotent, squealing woman of the cloth.

A handful of hours have elapsed as a summer breeze as Jude has already arrived in the motel by parking her cab on the free parking lot and paying for the first night, besides spending the entire night in her reserved motel room in thoughts of her love interest. Obsession over the man of the cloth fogged her fatigued mind as it denied assimilating diversity of information with exception the impure thoughts and fantasies, reworking them as if she was picturing them being as realistic as she yearned more than anything.

In the meantime, the blonde just laid on the double bed under the cotton, warm blanket as she wore nothing than her ravishing red satin negligee as an armor against the cold climate which hardened her nipples and goosebumps encrusting the soft, mossy flesh of her scarcely trembling body.

The lion mane of silken old Hollywood honey curls were ruffled wildly on the cotton pillow as a disheveled bush. Her eyelids were tightly clutched, inhaling inwardly as a newborn the stiff air which acclimated the room, which was counted as a living room and bedroom in the same time.

"W-Why ya did this to me, Timothy? And look where I'm now." Grunt escaped her lips as she was raving in her reverie of the holy man, who was the crucial character in it all over again as he was the character, who was teasing her and granted her sexual pleasure, besides romance. "Being in a motel because of this piece of shit. Is that yar promise for not separating yarself from me? Huh?"

The wee hours of the morning loomed as a dew, coating the grasslands in the countryside's outskirts.

The patients were in the common room after their release from their wards by having breakfast, subsequently starting to work their first shift or doing nothing else than their casual activities in the common room unlike the devious quest of Timothy, Father Malachi and Dr. Clarkson, who're about to exorcise the Satan of the young nun's body.

Mary Eunice spent the entire night and wee hours of the morning being strapped on the tattered, old bed in one of the wards in women's wing as some of the diligent security guards were outside, keeping their wits about the young woman's possession and murderously eccentric behavior, hearing her humdrum, demonic cries per a handful of minutes as if they're interweaving with certain patients' sorrowful whines.

"Somebody please help me!" The desperate, deep cries of the orphan were sufficiently audible for the both ecclesiastical members of the clergy as they paced in the women's wing along with Dr. Clarkson who was newly hired doctor after Dr. Thredson.

"Monsignor, are you completely sure the young nun is possessed?" The elder member of the church posed the question beyond gravely as his temple crinkled along with his arched sparse eyebrow.

"More than anything, Father! Since the exorcism of the poor boy Jed Potter, therefore I came to the conclusion the evil has dwelled into this fragile nun's body as she fainted after we announced the news of his decease." The younger man heaved a sigh, flaring his lungs as they stood beside the iron, rusty cell's door, just seconds before unlocking it with Timothy's pair of keys he had for the cells since he's the head of Briarcliff.

"It makes sense your words, Father!" Dr. Clarkson replied dryly as his lip curled as soon as they unlocked the ward, consequently stepping inside as Timothy and William Clarkson were the first temporal inhabitants of the cell with Father Malachi in front of them as team players, determined to save the pure soul and Mary Eunice's identity before it was too late.

Eventually William Clarkson was mildly older than Timothy approximately his late 30s with classy raven black, neatly combed hair, capping his head, followed by his piercing grayish-ocean pools, fair skin to ne, his readily appealing height 6'1 and his lean body built, framing him generally. At last but not least, the pungent scent of honey perfume emanated from his suit's formal cardigan and his dark, excellently tied tie.

The wall battered window bathed the room in dim day light as it significantly affected the possessed girl's vision, causing her bewails to splotching her tongue as they rocked up from her lips.

"Come on, little piggies! Let's have some fun." The possessed blonde jeered at the horde of adults, trying to belittle them especially her former mentor's favorite priest as Timothy and Father Malachi were on the left side of Mary Eunice's bed, whereas William was on the right side, supervising her as they were overlooking her daredevil game.

"Don't listen to her!" Timothy sternly clarified once again, in order to shield his both trustworthy partners by purging the demon out of her frail skeleton with prayers and giving CRPs. The men were utterly focused on their recent task.

"Monsignor, have you ever wondered what the old hag whore has always fantasized of you or rather, the question is what you haven't heard from her?" The juvenile, smitten nun said in teasing manner as her profound, diabolic voice accentuated on every spelled word hers, gawking raffishly Timothy, Father Malachi and William, who were combating the Satan.

Hard lump which just formed in his dry throat was swallowed momentarily after he figured out she knew everything even the deepest, grimmest secrets of his favorite nun, who was no longer in the mental hospital.

It wasn't the first time when the vile essence attempted to test his thin patience, declaiming every phrase from his daredevil, fiendish game.

Meanwhile, Timothy's face tinged in sheer sanguine hues as the muggy heat crawled underneath the roundness of the cheeks. An anterior tooth nibbled on the silken skin of his berry-coloured lip at the thought of his rara avis being mentioned especially by the devil, who knew everything even if it's obliterated away on the surface. Cocky, smug grin danced across her naturally rosy-coloured, perfectly shaped lips.

"Oh God! Timothy, don't stop it!" She commenced with her derision, imitating Jude's moaning voice, biting her bottom lip as she double played the former licentious nightclub singer's protagonist in her sexual dreams, cram-full with criminal, blow minding desires and lust over the British aristocrat. "I'm coming, Timothy! Oh!" The soft, nevertheless, ideal imitation of the sultry moans which sailed from the top of her lungs caused immense embarrassment, painting blanching tinges across his complexion as moist thick layer veiled his forehead.

What the holy man hankered for was hearing the sensual, mellow as feather moans escaping his rare bird's lips after flaring as fierce blaze her lungs, whereas they were clung to one another as their bodies were pressed to one another. Feminine, soft as velvet skin contacting another skin. Masculine, callous, mossy as peach.

The exorcism advanced as Mary Eunice was not only sedated by the doctor, further, the combat resumed as the winners weren't apparent yet. Demonic chuckles and babbles floated in the cell as they were numbing the hallowed prayers until the bed along with the blonde's body writhed as the final seconds of her life were elapsing quicker than the gushing down rain drops.

They gave their best to rescue her and her taintless, pure soul until she shrieked in soreful pain for last time as her final word on her deathbed just set free together with the final, lethal breath, blew through the nostrils as she rose up, seconds before collapsing forcefully her head back on the pillow, subsequently without moving a single muscle of her youthful corpse.

"She's dead!" It was William who gave a couple of CRPs to the dead lady as the heart attack was the reason of her death just like in Jed's case.

Afterwards the 3 men looked up at each other, meeting each other's glassy, fueled with fresh sorrow gawks as the youngest man's brittle eyelids were pooled with bitter swamp, tears betraying to spring up into his peaceful chocolate brown eyes, rolling down on his cheeks.

When the exorcism ended as Mary Eunice's salvation was a failed quest, consequently Timothy negotiated with the former Nazi war criminal about his favorite precious nun's death as he couldn't accept it with an ease as he was sure the possession has corrupted not only every cell of her immobile corpse and mind, moreover she has no relatives to grief over her recent death as the crimination was the sole alternative to get rid off her corpse and protect the nuthouse from the evil and its vices.

Despite the tough decision, incapable of performing cremation of the deceased orphan's soul case, the elder doctor of science was more than docilely determined to do whatever his boss was telling him.

First and foremost, Timothy began wondering how his rara avis is going to accept his former protégé's latter death, occurring shortly after whether her emigration in Pittsburgh or her stay in Boston as he hasn't known to these days her current residence.

\- A Week Later -

On Friday, the middle-aged woman didn't miss her flight for Pittsburgh as she embraced with open arms the offered position in the wayward home for girls as a dorm, food and everything else she needed was ensured for her.

As she spent a couple of days working in the home for wayward girls, hence, she started liking working in the facility by spending some of her leisure time with girls, whether young or about to turn 18, by advising them or cheering them up, deeming them as her own daughter figures even if Mary Eunice was her sole and one of a kind daughter figure. Moreover, the woman of the cloth was heard galore of grim stories, being told from the girls from the home for wayward girls. Wise advices traveled to their ears as they imprinted permanently into their minds as benevolent, cordial embraces scooped them to comfort them, besides the cheek and forehead tender, delicate kisses and the encouraging words to chin up without giving up and carry on with their lives. Bright smiles flourishing on their lips as rosebuds of the flowers which have just blossomed in the wee days of the spring.

Howsoever, she has doubted the love of her life will come for her by checking her how she was exactly working as a nun again especially in a much different institution than a mental hospital for criminally insane. At least, each silent prayer of his which was sent directly as a message to her hinted the pensive expressions of gratitude, molting her flimsy heart.

Every morning after getting from the bed and getting ready for the day, every afternoon after lunch and finishing some remarkable or petty tasks, every night before crawling in the bed, the middle-aged lady prayed her heart out for her protégée and her love interest, hoping they didn't have any trials, blocking their ways to accomplish their ultimate goals.

It has been a tough week later, advancing in the time line without beholding the British aristocrat. Without having the opportunity to contemplate or glance at his handsome, charming, soft as cinnamon roll, airbrushed in innocence face. Without having the opportunity to spot his sheepish, humble, gleeful smile which cradled his lips every time they saw or encountered one another. Without anticipating him with heart races as the heart beats severely, briskly hammered in her ribs. Without greeting warmheartedly and share brief even slightly on personal level conversations. Without having the chance of hearing his velvet, soft, British accent, ringing angelic anthems into her sensitive, petite ears as if she was hearkening the twittering birds' songs in the wee hours of the morning along with the pale, mist light, illuminating the exposed flesh.

As the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer was seating on an old, wooden chair in the expansive dining room where the girls were having lunch as usually, a few girls preferred to stay with the member of the church, whereas the rest of them were playing outside, relishing the late autumn days which were dying very soon as innuendos of the winter were readily obvious in the climate change, in fact, the days were colder and windier. The crispy, multicoloured leaves which once overcrowded, shaping a grandiose tree crown weren't housed on the branches as they have tumbled down, carpeting the ground.

Perhaps Angelica and Yoanna were the only children who preferred to accompany the sister of the church, struggling to eat the poor-quality dish which was part of their daily menu.

"Aren't ya peckish anymore, Angie and Yoanna?" She asked them as the maternal instincts resurrected once one child joins her company at least. A sympathetic, soothing smile curled up in the corner of her dry, naturally rosy-coloured lips, gluing her honey brown irises on them.

"No, Nanny! We want to be with you and play with you!" The eight-year-old, Angelica, replied capriciously, turning to the middle-aged woman as her thin lips pouted suddenly, sighing.

"I know, sweethearts! But Nanny has sometimes important tasks, involving clerical duties which aren't for little kids or not pious people at all." Hoarse, joyous giggle zinged her lips as she fondled gently the both girls' heads. "However, I hope you aren't as grumpy as you seem at first sight."

Angelica was actually a young girl, approaching her pre-teen stage as she was abandoned by her parents, due to their lack of enthusiasm to look after a girl since they have always desired to have a boy in their family. The young girl possessed chestnut pigtails, framing ideally her angelic, childish face, followed by pale as snow skin color, strawberry brown irises.

Yoanna was mildly older than Angelica as she was 2 years her senior with olive-tanned skin tone, slender body structure, azure blue pools, aureate, shoulder length halo ringlet of ebony black straight strands, framing her sheer, angelic image. At last but not least, the reason why she's residing the home for wayward girls is her mother committed suicide as shortly before that a maniacal depression befell her as soon as she became a widow, losing her husband in a brutal car accident.

"Aren't you free, Nanny?" The children loved her as well as they adored to address her Nanny since day one as she quickly became doted on them and vice versa.

"At the moment, yes! Just finish yar dishes or go play outside with the other kiddos as," When her hazel eyes spotted a familiar figure for her vision especially a young man, dressed up in clerical attires, known as the Monsignor and the future New York Cardinal, it caught her off guard, taking a sharp breath as she hemmed to keep on with her utterance, teasing her throat. "I'm busy for awhile, if I need to be excused."

"But you promised to be with us." The black-haired infant whined, biting her lip, attempting to catch the middle-aged lady off guard, distracting her from the recent object of her desires, transfixing her gaze on the younger man. "Nanny?"

"Huh? I-I'm so sorry, darlings!" She turned to them abruptly, pecking affectionate, feather kisses on the tops of their heads just before stroking them, emboldening them to go play outside or do another activities as another confrontation weebed her in its venomous spider webs. "Yar Nanny is so distracted at times so that some tasks occupied her hectic schedule. Go jump on the rope outside or play cards or with dolls! I'll be right back within a couple of minutes, okay?" They bobbed docilely their heads, leaving their unfinished meals on the wide dining table just before getting from their seats. "Good girls! I promise ya, everything is fine and everything will be fine once I find some more spare time for ya again." When they got from the chairs, sprinting up to the dining room's door, in the interval, the devotional member of the church set a foot in the room as the blonde fixed her gape on him as her mouth was a tad agape, contracting her jawline.

"J-Jude?"

"For heaven sake, what are ya doing here, Timothy? I haven't been expecting ya so far."

"It's alright, Jude!" He approached his favorite nun as his hands were reluctantly into his dark slacks' pockets, licking his lips in distressed manner. "Well, I wanted to pay a visit to you since we haven't been seeing each other for a week."

"That's right! Is that what ya wanted?"

"Urm, I'm not completely sure if it's better to discuss it right away, howsoever, I'm thinking of inviting you on a private cafeteria to discuss some things which we haven't shared with each other." He stammered, clearing his throat coyly. "In order to spill the tea about ourselves!"

In this moment, the older woman refrained from bickering since it has been a week since she has seen the holy man and most of all, she didn't want to appall him, hence, beget from not seeing one another anymore.

"Okay! At what time and when it's going to take its place?"

"Don't worry about all this! It's going to be tomorrow in 6 o'clock as you should find an excuse to the nuns!"

"Of course, I'll!" Wry, genuinely jubilant chuckle set free as the other adult joined her, relishing the first moments of their reunion in Pittsburgh, although his transfixed chocolate brown orbs, filled with warmness, genuine love and bliss glinted, on her as their proximity was as short as barely an inch. Timothy tried to not admire as much as he could the ethereal beauty of his right hand as he pursed bashfully his lips. "What's that look on yar face, Timothy?"

"N-Nothing!" It was forbidden for him to make a revelation about her ethereal grace especially a nun as he was no longer part of the church's duties by resigning the same week after the juvenile nun passed away and he deliberately disguised himself as a priest, in case, if one of the nuns stops him anywhere in the institution's area. He has always wondered what she concealed underneath her conservative, rigid, jet black habit along with the veiling wimple, questing him a devious quest by solving the impossible, paradoxal puzzle about his favorite sister. Meantime, he ducked lightly, reluctantly his head without averting his idiotic stare from her as if he just beheld the most beautiful woman in front of him. Her indisputable natural beauty, inescapably vibrant hazelish-brown orbs, her radiant, vague smile and the stray aureate strands which framed her well-defined, stunning complexion were the reasons why he was finding her for the most beautiful woman in this world since the first moment he has first laid eyes on her and vice versa. "I just wanted to confess to you something!"

"Go ahead, Timothy!"

"I have never told you this but, in my opinion, you're the most beautiful woman in this world whom I have ever laid eyes on." The compliment which he recently spitted out remorselessly without thinking about breaking her vows was the sweetest, the most heartwarming thing she could have ever heard especially coming from her love interest, whose abstinence was the core of not breaking their solemnly took vows.

"W-What? What are you saying?" She chewed her bottom, plump lip girlishly, demurely as a schoolgirl, who has received her first ever compliment from her crush as the muggy heat beneath her chubby, well-defined cheeks reheated again, lowering her eyes as they met shyly the carpeted flooring.

"I truly mean it." In the meantime, her heart raced as a couple of fingers of his mammoth, veiny hand grabbed her chin, throughout tilting her head to meet her piercing stare, casted on him as a ferocious eagle. "Jude, look at me! I might not know what do you exactly wear underneath these rigid, wool attires of the church, but it doesn't confutes the fact you're the most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on. Trust me!" She swallowed hard at his exclaimation which progressed promptly as railing train.

"Why thank you, Timothy! That's so kind of you, besides I really appreciate your goodwill!" She was beyond flattered in awe, due to the heartmelting compliment which she just earned from the person, she has the least expected to spit it out directly especially a priest, believing the circumstance he's serving the cloth yet.

"That's when the destiny brings us back together!"


	3. Revelations

\- _Later That Day_ -

As the nun put down to sleep the girls, distributing them by their age in the room and having a frugal dinner, shortly after she recited the night prayer and crawling in the bed after stripping each ecclesiastical attire as it peeled off her creamy, milky as vanilla skin as snake. Leaving her almost stark as a newborn, dressed up in her sinful bloody red negligee. The bloody red satin negligee as a piece of garment which she deemed as a remarkable, memorable fragment of her past, incarnating her past life as a mere, unholy and depended on the fiery impulses woman. Not as a saint.

As soon as she allowed her muscles relax by fluttering shut her eyelids, Timothy's words as imprinted memories, echoed inwardly, giving her hopes for the imminent day especially their first real date even if it was against the church. Against took solemn vows. Against God. Against anything sacred. Against her career.

Her shut eyelids as shells tinted more vibrant tinges as if she beheld the scintillating frame of Timothy hours ago, reuniting together as he wore the same clerical garments, considering him the same holy man. In her eyes, he's going to be always the same man, whom she yearned for ages, despite the solemnly took vows and most of all, devoting himself to the church and its holy duties, including every inch of his is already God's possession.

The scarcely kipping blonde could hear yet her love interest's inner voices, whispering in the limbo as the velvety, British accent gapped the silence and sending chills all over her already relaxed muscles, incapable of letting her calf quiver at the thought of his invitation on the first date.

What the heck crossed his mind to invite a nun on a date? Even more, if that's his purpose, hence, he left the church and Briarcliff and to break me some news? Did he truly miss me?

By judging the ocean of questions, engulfing them in the profound hole, still seeking answers, throughout she found the answer of the final question.

By the way he behaved and his words sounded, subsequently the middle-aged woman could tell the younger man alluded she wasn't being forgotten by him and at last but not least, the incessant thought of her, corrupting his cells with brooding over his rara avis's absence, which was the crucial reason why his smile froze.

Little did the holy woman know what kind of surprises are awaiting her on the private cafeteria's date, besides at the thought of the first date especially being an emphatic idea of the former man of the cloth, who couldn't be seen in another light than just as the compassionate, pious priest, pursuing his celestial, golden, blinding dreams. Celestial dreams which fewer people might follow them to the end and being appointed as a Cardinal, afterwards Pope and set a foot on the aisle in Rome, was nothing than just unthinkable reality, or rather only in her dreams. The sacred territory of his exalted reputation, where he's lastly being encompassed by swarm of nuns and priests, bowing before him and addressing him in revered manner, expressing their immense respect for him.

In addition to, the nun had an old, lacquered from a handful of years ago wardrobe as its double doors were opened, storing up the hanging variety of garments which were either brought with her and she possessed them, or on the contrary, the church has ensured her since the middle-aged lady gave up the mere life, consequently limiting herself and escaping the cruel reality of the heartbreaks, lust, love, sex, marriage, lovers, alcohol and everything sinful and ordinary. Marrying herself reckoning her body to God and his mammoth, hallowed hands, encircling each once touched, rubbed slim, perfectly shaped in swam shape curve of her petite figure.

The garments were a pair of sheerly angelic, white, cotton night gown, ankle length, mingling with one more rigid, shapeless, wool dark habit until two casual in black and deep green dresses, numbering the last one the ravishing red one in the right side variated as colors from the rainbow, contrasting each other due to the image and impression they were giving as soon as they cohering certain inches of the milky flesh.

\- The Next Day -

In the wee hours of morning as they dawned, whilst the pale blue lights dazzled the living surroundings' orbs, the nuns got up and had a breakfast with the children in the dining room after releasing them from their specified rooms, separating them by judging their ages.

In the meanwhile, Angelica and Yoanna seated alongside their favorite nun as she was between them, accompanying her as they were masticating scrambled eggs with cheese.

The grand window in the room allowed the dim sun light assault the room, thus bathing it in light, illuminating naturally everything.

As the member of the church pronged some cheese, thereafter munching it within a quarter a minute, she left her silver fork, contemplating glassily the window in the corner of her fresh, pensive honey brown pools, nibbling on the silky skin of her bottom, plumpish mauve lip at the thought of her first date with the former Monsignor, overwhelming her train of thoughts with swamp of questions.

First and foremost, what she might wear to their first date in the private cafeteria and what kind of an impression she might make with her looks out of her clerical, tiresome attires, covering her skin? Second, is the impression is going to be an unholy one and enthralling for the British aristocrat? Whether yes or no, is the younger man going to change significantly his opinion about his rare bird, beholding her in much different light than he'd think he has seen through the years? At last but not least, how the date in the private cafeteria is going to pass and what kind of a dialogue they will develop through the elapsing time?

"Nana!" The brunette snapped Judy out of her train of thoughts abruptly as she glimpsed hesitantly back at the young girls, meeting her stare as her heart raced promptly as the heart beats pulsated severely into her ears, interweaving with the childish, girlish voice.

"Uh! I'm so sorry, sweetie! Just Nana is bewildered at moments." The former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer lied, attempting to find a bamboozling excuse to not being caught as her goose is being cooked once the both little girls slyly find out why their favorite nun is being pensive and leery this morning.

"Is everything okay?" The black-haired orphan posed the question with immense inquisitiveness, vomited in her question.

"Yeah, yeah!" Meanwhile, the middle-aged lady was fixing absently her wimple, keeping her austere looks to resurface on her petite figure instead the disheveled as if she was a mere woman. "Everything is fine. Just sometimes I'm so absent-minded or thinking way too much about some stuff."

"Over what?" The both orphans enquired in unison after munching some scrambled eggs and cheese, lingering on their teeth and tongues.

"It's for adults as I'm going to see an old friend and colleague of mine tonight." Joyous, sarcastic chuckle left her lips. "Nobody from these kiddos isn't supposed to know where Nana is going tonight, okay?" Meantime, Angelica and Yoanna bobbed their heads, affirming the woman of the cloth's words, thrumming inwardly. "It's just our wee secret, Angie and Yoanna!" She kept on with her utterance, leaning past Yoanna's ear as the whisper lingered on her tongue.

\- _Later That Day _-

The hours elapsed as swiftly as a vague summer breeze, playing and blowing lightly every surrounding object and living one.

After the afternoon prayer, the member of the clergy told the nuns she's going to be absent tonight, in order to meet an old colleague of hers without being more specific and detailed about the location and so forth.

As the middle-aged was sitting on the wooden, old chair, grasping a pocket mirror, checking her zoomed reflection of her lips as she was applying the mauve lipstick, painting her upper and bottom plump lips in darker, howsoever, less provocative and extravagant color. In this moment, her slender, nonetheless ageless, still drop-dead gorgeous body was meandered in ebon black dress, ankle length with boat neckline and middle sleeves, sleeving her slim biceps as its sleeves peaked to her elbows as if snakes were clothing the creamy as satin flesh underneath serpent's skin.

Her petite feet were shielded in black, classy, old pair of stilettos which were extant up to nowadays with lacking signs of down-at-heel and losing its own valuable quality which was more than flabbergasting for the blonde. It has been a long, long time ago when she has put them on her feet, making her to feel like a real woman and sensing the classiness and grace inked all over her frame. Feeling the old Hollywood aura encompassing her as a halo ringlet, belting her. Glimmering from her head with the lion mane of glossy old Hollywood honey tresses up to her tiny, elegant feet, shoed in stilettos. In the interim, her halo ringlet of silky old Hollywood aureate curls descended her upper back, framing ideally her eerily aeonian, hardly wrinkled due to the aging process, porcelain complexion as the natural beauty looked better on her with barely any marks of make-up.

As soon as she finished with applying the mauve lipstick, she pursed her lips for a split second until gingerly popping them up, subsequently allowing the mauve nuance spread all over her rosy-coloured lips, smearing them.

Thereafter she sprayed her old, nonetheless memorable rosy perfume on her neck, bosom, hair and wrists as she gathered the perfume in her obsidian purse along with the lipstick, compact pocket mirror, her car keys, in case, besides the remaining money which were no more than 50 dollars.

Once Judy was already prepared for the first date in the private cafeteria, she checked her double herself, reflexed on the round, tall mirror once again, making sure she was neat and elegant. The old Judy Martin's revivification was already a fact again. No longer dressed up or rather disguised as the godly sister of the Roman Catholic church as its holy attires conceal every fragment of her grim past and its inescapable, pitch-black darkness.

Shortly after she opened her dorm's creaky, wooden door after taking with herself her comfy coat and purse, subsequently the holy woman glanced at the both halls' directions, making sure its empty and nobody doesn't get her in trouble. The hallways were as abysmal, however, empty as barrens.

In a matter of handful of minutes in tiptoeing and discreetly leaving outside the grand façade, imposing the grand massive stairs, she was met with a masculine, much taller figure, standing in front of his black cab, parked on the motorway. It was Timothy Howard. He looked far from the man of the cloth she has always known him.

When the older woman approached her love interest, she couldn't help but offer him a sympathetic, calm smile, cradling her mauve lips.

"Good evening, rare bird!" In the meantime, the British aristocrat greeted her warmly, returning the smile with a benevolent, sheepish, distorted across his naturally berry-coloured, luscious lips. At the moment, the both lovers' hearts leaped in anticipation as they longed their genuine first date to be too true especially for Judy.

"Good evening, Timothy! It's unbelievable by the way ya look!" She was beyond mesmerized she was met with her favorite former Monsignor being dressed in a formal white shirt, charcoal blazer, navy blue slacks and black oxfords after scanning his outfit in the corner of her hazelish-brown iris, fueled with childish, humongous curiosity what's the backstory behind his outfit and why he's dressed up like this unlike in his Monsignor's daily one.

"I owe you an explaination about this one." Timothy assured her, patting affably, lightly her shoulder as she couldn't repress demure, bashful giggle, quivering her oral caverns. "Just get in the car." He carried on with his exclaimation, persuading her to enter in the vehicle as he opened the door specially for her, holding it for her. "Ladies, first!"

"Thanks!" Judy released a hoarse, girlish chuckle as she seated alongside the driver, whereas he slammed the car door and got inside the vehicle from the other side. In the interval, the holy woman was beyond dumbfounded by her love interest's demeanor especially tonight. He has never opened to her which she found it for cute at least or that was just her conscious.

\- Later That Night -

"_When the deep purple falls over sleepy garden walls and the stars begin to twinkle in the night in the mist of a memory! You wander all back to me! Breathing my name with a sigh!_" Nino Tempo and April Steven's recent song was playing inside the cafeteria's background as their eloquent voices accentuated on the lyrics, rendering the atmosphere more inviting.

"How like that ya resigned from the church? Is that some kind of a joke for tonight?" After munching some lettuce as she has ordered for herself green salad, mineral water and cherry cheesecake, Timothy has ordered for himself white wine, sea salad with raspberries, embellishing its scrumptious salad, she choked after he confessed the younger man is no longer part of the church. It has been a quarter an hour since they were sitting inside the restaurant after they have ordered themselves what they exactly wanted and most of all, their orders were served within a few minutes only. "The fools' day isn't approaching too soon yet and ya are talking about yar resignation from the church."

"Jude, I'm absolutely honest here! I've decided to resign from the church by taking my life in other direction and come back for you," In the meantime, the former devotional member of the church earned her piercing, inquiring gape, casted on him directly as a piercing, envenomous arrow, aimed at its target, throughout marking a bullseye.

"What yar resignation from the church has to do with yar return especially our reunion?" All of a sudden, she cut him off curtly in his mid-sentence as it abided unfinished, scratching in distressed manner her scalp with her fingertips of her solely free hand at the moment. "It's November, Timothy! It's not April!"

"As your birthday approaches extremely soon, every day might sound like a joke to you, however, I'm honest here. I want to change everything for better." In the meanwhile, he sipped of his glass of fresh, lukewarm white wine as its sinful, sweet alcoholic liquor tickled his tongue, thus staining his mouth with its wine flavor, without averting his gaze from her. "My resignation speaks volumes. They can change your mind as soon as possible as it's up to you along with our reunion."

"Well, well, well, if you say ya aren't my favorite Monsignor, then yar rare bird would like to know what happened with Mary Eunice?"

"Oh, it's a long story, Jude!" Suddenly his heart ached at the thought of the recently passed away once pure and blameless sister of the church, whose childish, inevitable purity was robbed and most of all, damned by its Satan as soon as the vileness found its new home after the exorcism. Moreover, Timothy chewed his damp lip as he wiped his clammy palm of his hand in his pant's knee cap nervously. He took a deep breath, seconds before starting with the dramatic, heartbreaking monologue to break the news for his right hand, in order to keep her wits about her once favorite protégé. "Unfortunately, you don't want to even hear it, rare bird! Believe me!"

"Just spill the tea, Timothy! I just want you to spit it out." All the blonde hankered more than anything was to acknowledge her daughter model's condition.

Seconds before commencing with the monologue, consequently crinkled his temple after sipping his alcoholic beverage, rolling his chocolate brown irises as they were filled with immense ounce, interweaving with the stress and concern, oozing from her piercing gaze, goggled at her love interest.

"Well, you were indeed right about her! She had something suspicious, commanding her muscles, conscious and mind as I faced the evil by myself." As his speech escalated, the tension built its own cemented barriers, guarding its stress. "She tried to trap me in her trap and luckily, the security guards as they heard my roar, dragged her off me and she was strapped on bed until the morning after as I called Father Malachi and Dr. Clarkson to deal with the fiendish fragment of her body until she fainted and passed away, as a result of her heart which couldn't keep its steady rhythm." In the interim, the middle-aged lady was all ears, attentively listening to the love of her life's words as it rang leery, unwelcoming tunes into her sensitive, petite ears.

"_In the still of the night! Once again I hold you tight! Tho' you're gone your love lives on when light beams and as long as my heart will beat  
Sweet lover, we'll always meet! Here in my deep purple dreams!_"

"W-What? Is she dead?" She held her throat, leaving the silver fork in the plate as the blonde verged to vomit, nauseating at the morbid thought of her once favorite innocent nun to pass away. Her adroit, slim fingers wrapped around the crook of her neck as she squinted her eyelids in slits of fresh scars, tattooed on the skin.

"She's already dead!" In this moment, the nun couldn't help but slump from the chair as her senseless body hit heavily the carpeted ground, shutting reluctantly her eyelids as they were shaped in crescent form. Obnoxiously monstrous panic blanched Timothy's youthful, concerned face as soon as he witnessed one of the most unexpected moments. His rare bird fainting as soon as he announced the heartbreaking news about Mary Eunice's death a week ago. Furthermore, the unconscious holy woman earned the horde of clients', reckoning the waiters' anxious looks, inked on their complexions. Timothy's heart sunk. No response. No action. They weren't the alternative responses of the sister of the church, who was listening attentively the former Monsignor's utterance.


	4. Sins and Love

"Rare bird? Jude?" The former man of the cloth got from his seat immediately as one of the waiters, who was currently in break approached the senseless nun, lying on the ground as her legs and arms were spread as the rest of the customers were in shock, eyeing pryingly the scene. Further, Timothy's heart sunk even ached, praying inwardly his heart out for the nun, strongly believing she's still alive. "I need to get you at home very soon." He mumbled encouragingly to himself as his berry-coloured, damp lips wedged in a purse, throwing his strong, muscular arms around her waist and shoulder, in order to lift her in bridal lift up to his cab.

"Is everything alright, sir?" One of the dumbfounded customers, who was eventually an elder woman in the beginning of her 60s was not only profoundly concerned for the fainted younger lady, moreover for the younger man, who attempts to save her life and most of all, get her at his home.

The truth was since Timothy's resignation from the church and arriving in Pittsburgh, in order to reunite with his right hand, he has bought a small, nonetheless convenient one-story cottage in the woods, since the British compatriot was a keen fan of the nature and living somewhere quieter. Somewhere isolated. Somewhere more peaceful. Somewhere non crowded area. Somewhere he could deal with his demons and the serenity envelops his heart and mind as a part of mediation since the former priest has lived in the urban areas for a long time. At last but not least, the cottage had 2 bedrooms as the first one is for him and Jude, whereas the second one for guests along with children's room, living room, bathroom and kitchen.

"Not at all, ma'am! But I'm trying my best to fix the things." All of a sudden, as soon as the elder woman enquired the former Monsignor, he turned to her, shooting persuading, serious stare for a split second, seconds before lifting his rara avis's body and paying the total sum of the dinner's bill. He was deeply worried for Judy and her health condition more than the dinner they had. Grotesque, grave frown curled his lips as a thick layer of perspiration baptized his mammoth, veiny hands and his temple, hefting Jude's unconscious body as the waiter opened the double door for the British compatriot, whose hands were occupied.

"Do you need additional help, sir?" The male waiter questioned sincerely Timothy, who was already set a foot outside the facility, bobbing his head as his emerald orbs scrutinized in the corner of his eye the blonde's motionless facial expression. Her shut eyelids. The oxygen which surged her nostrils. The immobile smeared mauve lipstick as they have already contacted drink and food.

"Could you please delve in one of my slacks' pockets for the car key-" As Timothy verged to finish his sentence, suddenly he could heard masculine panting behind him, startling him as his berry-coloured lips popped up as exploding dynamite, turning to the mysterious, shadowed figure in the middle of the night.

"Monsignor, what happened to Sistah Jude?" The former cop earned the waiter and the former holy man's inquiring, frantic looks, tattooing their facial features, due to the least predictable uninvited guest's emergence. His azure blue pools, fueled with unconditional disquiet for his once favorite former boss, who was now in her favorite former priest's secure, strong arms, were transfixed on her immobile mimics as if she was a dead fish. Even more the both younger men's hearts raced.

"You scared me, Frank! We have an issue here." The light autumn breeze blew as invisible waves fondled delicately the adults' muscles. Timothy took a deep breath, nibbling on the silken skin of his upper lip grudgingly, lowering his chocolate brown pools as they were inundated with abysmal, obvious concern and distress to the holy woman's face, admiring her ethereal grace which she possessed. She looked and she was eventually beautiful into his eyes even when the unconsciousness commanded her body, muscles and bones. "Judy fainted during the dinner night and I need to get her somewhere safe but I can't get take off the car keys from my slacks pockets. Could you do it just for me and her?"

"Of course! But I'm wondering how she did faint." In the meantime, the security guard delved one of his hands into the pants' pocket, fumbling something rusty, made of steel until he snatched them and grasped them, murmuring under his breath, without averting his ocean blue eyes from the middle-aged lady.

"In addition to tell you, sir, do not forget to pay the bill for the dishes!" The waiter repeated himself as he entered inside the cafeteria, whereas the former man of the cloth and the security guard were outside the facility, conversating one another.

"It's alright! I'm going to pay it in a jiffy."

"So, what happened to Jude? Why she's unconscious?" The older man posed 2 questions as the younger one cleared his throat momentarily at the inquiry, raising an arch of his thick eyebrow elegantly.

Even the former police officer's heart ached and sunk, when he witnessed the passed out woman of the cloth in such vulnerable, unexplainably distressing condition. Timothy wasn't the only one, who grieved cordially over her passed out condition and recited inwardly as inner voices hallowed prayers as if he was delivering a speech. The question that Frank asked was still unanswered as the answer he was looking for was more important than anything else.

"Frank, we're having a dinner night there as I told her about Mary Eunice's possession as the devil has corrupted every cell of her fragile body and how we exorcized her and then she got a heart attack, concluding to her death at such young age."

"Is that the reason why Sistah Jude fainted, Monsignor?"

"First and foremost, I'm no longer a priest, Frank! Believe me!" The both men ambled up to the vehicle as Frank was farther than Timothy, unlocking it via the keys. "Second, that's the reason why she fainted. It's probably in disbelief of her favorite nun's sudden heart attack and death."

"Oh!" Frank exhaled sharply as he opened the cab's passenger door so that the former priest lay down Judy to kip until he drives her at his cottage and look after her until she comes to her senses at last. "Are ya scared she will reject ya?"

"What it wouldn't scare me is that she knows the truth about Mary Eunice even if she doesn't want to have any associations with me anymore! It's better to be rejected as they know the truth which you told them rather than to bamboozle even manipulate with pretty, sweet lies as you keep clung these seekers for the truth as opposite magnets' magnetism."

"Ya are goddamn right, Tim! Even if I dislike ya, I can admit ya are such a wise man." Once Timothy laid down Judy on the passenger's back seat, he slammed the door as he lifted up his hand to scratch uneasily his chestnut hair with his fingertips, tipping its crop softness and glancing at the shimmering moon as its moonlight dispersed pale white beam their faces and hairs, acquiring lighter pigments.

"At least, I'm trying my best to improve myself as a person and find a way to do it for Jude, besides for myself."

"Ya don't need to explain yarself, Tim!" All of a sudden, the middle-aged man patted affably, lightly the younger one's muscular, broad shoulder, emboldening him to not lose faith in himself and his potential to fix the things. An optimistic, slight smile honed up in the corner of his lips, encouraging Timothy the things will be fixed and alright.

"But I need to pay the bill for tonight. Can you stay for awhile, securing the car and Jude?"

"Of course, Tim! I'll do it just for ya!"

"Thank you!"

\- _2 Hours or So Later_ -

It has been 2 hours since Judy hasn't even moved a single muscle of her petite frame as she has been transferred in guests' bedroom, lying on the double bed, tucked up warmly in a quilt. Timothy not only paid the bill for the dinner night for 2, but also he collected Judy's items which she has forgotten inside the cafeteria, in fact she's still senseless.

It took no more than a half an hour to the former member of the church to drive warily in the middle of the night as he was all ears to lend an ear to any unpredictable sounds or noises, emanating from passenger's seat, keeping his wits about Judy coming to her senses lastly.

As soon as they were inside the cottage, Timothy was in the kitchen, cooking potato soup for Judy as the water for the tea was about to boil, thereafter making a herbal tea for her, thrumming to himself a melodious tune, ringing into his ears, whilst the television was broadcasting a documentary about sea animals. The soup was almost ready with the tea altogether.

As soon as the holy woman came to her senses, rubbing with her brittle, petite fists her drowsy eyes, whilst a mere yawn left her dry, faintly smeared mauve lips, she opened fully her irises as Judy flinched, when her irises were embraced with sufficiently expansive, howsoever, cozy bedroom as the current location for her was unidentified yet, bearing a semblance of undiscovered mystery. Little did the member of the clergy know where she was as galore questions swamped her whirlpool of thoughts.

First and foremost, the middle-aged lady thought she was either kidnapped or Timothy has brought her but where is the question. Second of all, the memories of the dinner night were as hazy as mist fog, fogging the town with its pale grayish light in the wee hours of the morning. All the blonde could ideally recall straight off was the dinner night she shared with her former favorite priest and the news he broke about the deceased juvenile nun, due to a heart attack during the exorcism, in order to bash the malicious, relentless demon of her vulnerable body.

A slight headache assaulted the native Bostonian's head, heaving a jaded, reluctant sigh from the top of her flaring lungs as volcano, surging its oxygen which zinged her breathing organs. Her frail eyelids incessantly blinked, flapping its long, ebony as crow's midnight black feather wings to have a better vision of the room as blurriness tinged.

When her vision purified as lucidness airbrushed her surroundings, Judy took her time to survey, scanning it in the corner of her eye every piece of furniture, spotting even the pettiest details behind the convenient, welcoming guests' bedroom. For example, the exquisitely polished wardrobe along with her purse and coat were sitting motionlessly on the stool alongside the same wardrobe. Abstract and surreal artworks or rather paintings hung on the wall, embellishing the room. A porcelain floral vase with turquoise and magenta marigolds' alluring fragrance toyed with the blonde's nostrils.

Further, the silence was even more than disturbing. It was numbing each sound or noise that was produced whether in the hallway or in any different angle of the one-story house. It sent electrifying chills down her spine and body of quizzical bewilderment, hindering to think clearly why she's there and is that her love interest's cottage.

"Where am I?" Honeyed, weary whisper lingered on her tongue tip as she murmured it.

When the younger man finished with the soup and tea, he set them on the platter, holding it warily up to the guests' bedroom, declaiming in mumble prayer, praying cordially for Judy and her soul to come to her senses in no time as his heavy eyelids blinked ceaselessly as the graphic images of Judy's fainting plagued every cell even his vision in somber hues, painting a darker landscape of the things that took its place in the cafeteria earlier tonight. His berry-coloured lips curled in the holy prayer until he cried out loud, keeping Judy's wits about his presence.

"Judy, your tea and potato soup are ready!" He opened himself with an elbow, attempting to poise the platter without dropping it clumsily as soon as the door creaked, stepping inside and earning the older woman's perplexed look, inked upon her porcelain, pale as ghost complexion as she arched an eyebrow, squinting her caramel brown pools at him, biting her lip.

"T-Timothy, what the hell am I doing here?" The sister of the church questioned in bemused manner as he approached the right night stand, setting the platter with hot potato soup and herbal tea, sitting on the edge of the bed as he ignored her question as her ethereal, doubtless grace was squinted at her in the corner of his eye, besides multitasking his focus on not dropping unintentionally the tray. "Timothy Howard! What's this place? Where are the explainations ya owe me?" She tried to draw his attention without bickering as mild soreness was vomited in her rhetorical questions, lowering her peep at her bogus second dinner.

"Huh? I drove you to here since you fainted in the cafeteria. That's actually my house where I live since I moved here in Pittsburgh."

"Aww, it's so cozy and comfortable!" Alleviating, angelically innocent smile crawled on her parchment, milky as vanilla face as she sipped the herbal tea, subsequently commencing to masticate the potato soup. "I've always liked those small houses or cottages in the woods, ya know." The middle-aged lady added as a hoarse, droll chuckle harmonized her lips, holding the bowl in one of her hands, whereas her other one was occupied with the silverware spoon, spooning it.

"I'm glad you like it here. I've always desired to live somewhere out of the urban life. Out of the holy icons. Out of the patriarchy, storing up my piousness." The former holy man's monologue begun as he was keeping his voice low, however, velvety, eyeing in awe the nun even when Timothy knew right away if he dares to touch her somewhere else with his virginal, long fingers an inch, the vows would be murderously broken as dandruff in the vacuum. Broken vows, resulting God's judgmental, fierce glares, casted on the member of the clergy. Nonetheless, Timothy wanted to savor sex and love, sharing the prominent first time with somebody he has a yen more than anything to possess his virtue. For sure, it would be Judy as he craves Judy to be his first and final woman and love.

"That's nice! But is it eventually true I fainted in the cafeteria?" The blonde asked, still masticating her scooped soup as the hot, healthy dish's liquid resurrected her organs and body, absorbing its warmness which the soup has smeared her tongue and eating organs.

"It's true, Judy! You fainted because of the piece of news which I delivered you about Mary Eunice."

"Oh yeah!" Shortly after she ate some potato soup, putting it back in the tray, consequently the middle-aged lady shifted her hand to the top of her head, scratching nervously her head with her medium-sized nails, contacting the itching skin. "I'm deeply sorry for her death. I just couldn't handle all this as I fainted. I have always prayed for yars and her heart, when you weren't here." All of a sudden, the woman of the cloth's voice lowered drastically as its decibels diminished self-consciously at the thought of her once favorite innocent, taintless nun, who she has always considered as her own daughter figure even when the infertility and emptiness were her crucial issue even fragment of her grim past, agonizing her and the fix idea of having the sole thing she has desired even more than having a supportive, loving and caring man with a hand on her shoulder- a baby. A benevolent, rueful smile swayed across Timothy's lips, when Judy mentioned she has prayed for his and Mary Eunice's heart during her absence until their phenomenal, holy reunion.

"You prayed for both of us?" He took one of her elvish, smooth as velvet hands into his, squeezing it firmly in his larger one as the thumb kneaded the back of her hand, sending hypothermic chills and electrifying shivers down her body of sweetness, pleasure and peace, in order to reassure her. How long it has been a man to be as affable and genial as Timothy towards her? That was the question. "Really?" Timothy asked as he was speechless when the nirvana curiosity was vomited in his rhetorical exclaimation.

"I did. Every day! Every morning! Every afternoon! Every night! Even in my dreams." The blonde couldn't suppress growing smile as it bloomed as a recently blooming spring flower in the wee days of the spring. "I didn't want anything special than just yar hearts to be blessed with holy light and my prayers."

"You're the one, who deserve all this unlike me. Even if I wanted to protect you from the vicious claws of Dr. Arden, that's the reason why you're here. Safe and sound! Your safety matters more to me rather than anything else. Even more than your once favorite protégé." Oddly the holy woman's headache pottered out in the vacuum as it no longer tormented her cells and mind. At last but not least, Judy's heart ached more than anything for her deceased protégé, who was no longer wandering this world as a mortal than a lifeless, eternally roaming spectral, attempting to find peace with herself. Spectral, smiling divinely, vividly to her once favorite parents figures even if they were a small family for her along with Arthur Arden, who was still alive, nonetheless still being in charge of the madhouse's laboratory. "Just imagine if I wasn't the person to offer you this position in Pittsburgh and you were still in Briarcliff, bickering one another with this suspicious man!"

"It makes sense why I'm here if I'm correct." Insecure, honeyed whisper nuzzled her tongue. "Thanks to ya, I'm not Arden's next victim of his next generation's science experiments! But I can't still forgive ya for believing him."

"Exactly! I wanted to separate both of you as you are here in Pittsburgh, while he's still in Briarcliff. I'm just sick and tired of confrontations between two oppositions." Meanwhile, the younger man tucked a couple of stray gilt, satin tresses behind her tiny ear, admiring her timeless, obsessive beauty, oozing of her even when his face was scarcely centimeters distancing from hers as the gap verged to be closed. "And in addition to, you deserve some rest! You seem pretty exhausted."

"No, no, no, Timothy! Stay!" As the former holy man was about to get from the king-sized bed, Judy squeezed tighter his hand as if the tightest knot was tied, convincing him in obdurate manner, emotional plea zinged her damp lips. "I need ya!" Instead of going somewhere else, the British compatriot listened to his right hand and followed docilely her instructions without getting from the bed.

"But you're still a nun. You're about to break your vows once you possess my virtue." On the contrary, Timothy cautioned plainly, trying his best to not admire her ravishing perfume and seductive looks which caught his eye since tonight. "Jude, think twice about your career, the church and God!" On one hand, once Timothy reminded her she was yet a member of the church and serving its saint duties, it would obnoxiously affect her career, solemnly took vows and the nuns in Pittsburgh's home for wayward girls sooner or later will acknowledge that Judy has been absent overnight, besides the unholy things she has done if she is willing to. On other hand, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her as an alluding to resign from the church as he did and live together in his cottage.

"Screw my vows, Timothy! Yar confusing me so much!" Meantime, the middle-aged lady dragged Timothy, pinning him on the king-sized bed as he moved up to her, still squeezing her hand as he laid alongside her, turning to her without averting his gaze from hers. Judy's heart sunk at the hazy befuddlement which her love interest was causing to her. Whether breaking or not breaking her vows, that was the befuddling dilemma for her. "On one hand, ya want me as you have resigned from the church and came back for me. On other hand, ya are afraid I'll lose everything especially hallowed which is now in my hands. But I can tell ya something. I wasn't a saint in the past and I'm still not saint. Everything can't be as holy as serving as a slave this church."

"Jude, If I were you, I would have chosen you over the vows and the church!" All of a sudden, she flinched as he cupped in the palm of his mammoth, surprisingly warm hand her cheek, locking up her mystically mesmerizing hazelish-brown pools. Paroxysm contaminated her body muscles and bones as soon as his skin contacted her mossy, satin one. "You're my rare bird! I don't want to lose you after I tried to protect you."

"I'm definitely choosing you over the church and the vows. You've always been on my mind since the beginning. Since our first encounter. Since the first moment when I laid eyes on ya." The middle-aged woman commenced with her monologue especially the confessions' episode as a missing fragment to the evening they shared along in the cafeteria and now in the former Monsignor's cottage in the woods. "Timothy!" In the meanwhile, the blonde released his hand's grip by snaking her both slender, fragile arms around his upper back, scooping him in a warm hug as their faces were approximately an inch even less than an inch distancing them. At the moment, the former member of the church lifted up his colossal hand as the thumb barely brushed her bottom, plumpish lip. His warm, wine-stained breath tickled her complexion as vague summer breeze. "I've always loved you and I love you with my whole heart!"

"I love you too, my rara avis!" Suddenly the gap closed as she sealed her lips with his as her both hands moved up to his dark chestnut hair, raking it softly until it was vigorously with the growing aggressively ferocious kisses, shutting tightly their eyelids, relishing their first romantic moment, their hearts racing in anticipation. How they have longed for this to happen? Whether if it's Timothy or Judy, they have always hankered for this sultry, romantic moment to be once in their life.

As their kisses grew aggressively ferocious, afterwards the wet tongues' duel begun as Timothy followed his instincts, even if he was a virgin and Judy was his woman, giving his virtue to and most of all, deservedly as her fingers played his dark, soft hair until the holy woman's tongue won the tongues' duel, throughout plugging it inside his mouth, deepening the kiss into a French one. In this moment, the British compatriot's mammoth, secure hands snaked to his lover's upper back, unzipping them in slow motion as if the both adults didn't want this moment to end immediately. They wanted to endure for aoen. As the zip was gradually unzipping her knee length dress, the older woman was feeling freedom of her mossy, milky as snow skin breathing when the dress was peeling off her petite frame like snake.

Thereafter the former man of the cloth's lips glided, following its swan curve from her lips, lowering to her jawline until they peaked to her stark, silken skin of her neck, in the beginning peppering feather, light kisses until they were savagely truculent as he used technically his teeth, scrapping it as muffled, subsequently increasing its decibels groans and moans heaved her from the top of her frail lungs, arching her neck in choir with the cocked back head, giving him a better access to her erogenous zone. Shortly after the middle-aged lady teased her lover's hair, consequently her hands drifted down to his shirt, undoing some buttons and then unbuckling his slacks' belt as the shirt was peeling off his muscular, toned torso, whereas his slacks and belt were discarded on the carpeted flooring altogether with her dress as her wine red lingerie hugged her curves. They were commencing to lose their oxygen, due to the succumbing and lethal climaxes were reaching even if their sexes haven't united together.

As his lips slithered from her neck downwards to her bosom, indicating it with a light saliva until he groaned in disappointment when her bra armored her full, round breasts, unclasping it within seconds as it was tossed on the floor with the rest of the discarded attires. One of his hands pawed her round, full breast, whereas the other one was scooped in the younger man's berry-coloured lips, circling his tongue around her mauve areola, scrapping it with teeth her hard nipple as louder moans and groans left her lips. His other hand was between her legs, teasing and rubbing through her velvet lacy panties her already drenched folds with his pristine, long as piano keys fingers.

"Oh fucking God! Don't stop!" The woman of the cloth insisted persistently, incapable of keeping her tongue behind her ivory, still firm teeth, clutching them tightly as she ran her delicate, satin fingers all over his muscly torso and abs in steamy manner, admiring his natural, indisputable sexiness which was enticing for her.

"Oh, fuck! You're so wet, rare bird! Is that for me?"

"Of course, Timothy! I'm wet only for ya." She yanked the boxers from him even when Jude craved more than anything his tight crotch enter her core promptly until his hard rock cock sprung up as a toy-out-of-the-box, starting to tease and play it as she used mechanically and technically her hands, fondling it until she grasped it, massaging his testicles altogether.

"Oh, sweet Jesus! You're making me harder."

"So as I'm wet. I fucking want ya to make love to me, handsome!"

After a couple of minutes of teasing as Judy was no longer clothed in her underwear, consequently, her both drop dead gorgeous, ageless legs were dangled around his waist, being clung to him, positioning his member at her entrance and seconds before signalizing the initial trusts, they took their time to admire one another's enthralling facial features, taking a deep breath as their hearts hammered severely in their ribs cages. Timothy's both veiny, larger hands were cupping her buttocks as the palms rubbed the mossy softness of its roundness, darkened, fiendish grins were formed on their lips in a crescent shape. In the interval, Judy's hands were bracing the nape of his neck for balance, seconds before the thrusts.

When the former holy man begun thrusting inside his lover's core as the core's walls contracted his cock, the thrusts were painful and slow until he increased significantly his pace as their sweaty bodies contacted, brushing and rubbing along. Their essences mingling as their sore moans and groans swam in the bedroom's background. The springs of the double bed formed a choir as soon as the blonde dragged her nails, scrapping her love interest's back, digging them deeper as welts and traces of her savage scrapping nails were imprinted naturally on his back.

"Oh fuck! You're so tight, rare bird!"

"So as yar hard cock which is going to milk me dry very very soon. Be careful, what ya wish for, sweetheart!" Their climaxes were approaching extremely soon until the final thrust resulted planting his semen inside her core, subsequently plugging off his manhood of her as the both lovers collapsed on each other's torsos exceedingly weary with lack of physical and mental energy, incapable of putting a finger on it.

"Oh fucking Christ! That was brilliant." It was among the first times when the former man of the cloth cussed especially remorselessly, panting from the top of his brittle lungs, clasping in a sweaty, wet embrace his rare bird.

"I can't fucking agree more with ya! Ya were goddamn amazing, Timothy! I assure ya!" Hoarse, exhausted chuckle escaped her lips.

"I love you, my rare bird!"

"I love you too, darling!"


	5. Final Decision

\- _The Next Morning_ \- 

The wee hours of the morning were embraced by the eloquent, beatific songs of the twittering birds outside, encircling the one-story cabin that was situated in Pittsburgh's woods. Moreover, a heavy rain poured in Pittsburgh outskirts as it hive of crystal drops assaulted, clinking the cabin's closed windows and reproducing the rain's symphony.

The lovers' garments and lingerie, discarded sheeted the carpeted flooring, as a result of their love battlefield, taking its place the night before in the bedroom.

It was Judy, who came to her senses as she was perfectly normal, finding in peace with herself after making love to her former boss and uniting on much higher level, besides the dinner they shared in the cafeteria and he looked after her. Much higher level as if they weren't just friends or former colleagues, collaborating as team players. The event that took its place in Timothy's house, located in the woods was the indisputable, inescapable evidence they're lovers and they have found peace with themselves at last. How long they have craved this to happen especially somewhere where they're all alone and nobody is going to find out about their intimacy, besides the menaced career of the middle-aged woman and her already broken vows? Notwithstanding the sinister circumstances which keep the nun's wits about her goose being cooked, after the lovely night she spent with her lover which she is never going to forget, she is more than determined to flee the church. But before fleeing the church, the middle-aged lady is about to collect her own paraphernalia and pack up her baggage before coming back in her former boss's one-story house.

The eventual truth was the blonde's motives to resign from the church, abstaining herself from the celibacy and solemnly took vows even when the broken vows were in peril to readily affect her career,

As soon as her eyelids fluttered open as its drowsiness ounce was encumbering them, a mere yawn zinged her lips as a soul, dwelling out of the corpse. Her round, full breasts were brushing the younger man's hairy, muscular chest, their stark, mossy bodies clung together as one in defeatist poses, as a result of the ultimate and electrifying climaxes they reached in their love nest. The chilly, stiff climate smeared the goosebumps as just blossomed plants, in fact, they were as stark as newborn babies.

When Jude's frail, milky as snow balled fists lifted up to her drowsy eyelids to rub them as her vision fogged blurriness across the partly light room, the heavy rain jingled its tunes into her sensitive, petite ears, mingling with the former Monsignor's snoring that floated in the bedroom. She got from the king-sized bed and commencing to cloth her slender body with wine red underwear, followed by the dress which she wore the night before and put on the classy stilettos, shoeing her petite, fragile feet as an armor against the ground's hardness.

Once she got dressed up, the impending task was to find Timothy's car keys and drive to the wayward home for girls and announce her official resignation along with no longer serving as a servant of God. Servant of the holy duties. Servant of the angels and being part of their sacred, almighty army.

Nonetheless, the toughest tasks for her at the moment were not only escaping the house within a handful of minutes without making any sound to cause the former holy man's stir, moreover the resignation from the church and as she is about to pack her garments and remarkable items, one of the nuns is going to enquire her over her entire night's absence. Perhaps the real motives to resign from the church and no longer being a nun would be the top questions that might struck the prying nun, who is going to end her relationship as colleagues with the former licentious jazz nightclub singer.

Even after the breathtaking, intoxicating night the lovers had, Jude's divine armor was already splintered on thousand of wee, crystal fragments, scattering metaphorically the ground and exposing the genuine identity of the middle-aged woman. She was back again to her old life or rather former protagonist in her life as its demons and shadows played their own cards right. Judy Martin. Jude resuscitated Judy Martin, who she was not just lawfully, further, spiritually and in general. The sinful, ordinary, unholy lady with no masks, concealing her character. The wool, conservative, dark attires of the clergy were the mask of Judy Martin, concealing the darkness of her past. The darkness of her past which was framed in the sweet, unholy alcohol that lingered on her tongue, the callous, masculine and hankering for flesh hands that gripped her slim waist, fingers tickling and kneading every inch of her milky as vanilla skin, the one-night stand with the muffled and loud moans, swimming in the dirty, dilapidating motel rooms along with the brushing skins and the sexes' essences interweaving.

Once the sister of the church got dressed up, she picked her purse and tiptoed up to the notoriously squeaky door, opening it warily without disturbing her lover's lethargy condition that commanded his mind and entirely relaxed, motionless body. When she was about to shut the bedroom's door, she glimpsed beyond relieved at him, nibbling on the silken skin of her smeared mauve bottom lip, heaving a sigh of relief as its oxygen flickered from the top of her brittle lungs.

"Oh, thank God, he isn't awake yet!" Mumble lingered on her tongue, softly harmonizing her vocal stings as her caramel brown orbs, fueled with immense relief, vague anxiety. Relief, he wasn't awake yet to question her disappearance, whereas anxiety, sooner or later, he would caught her and inquire her where is she going in the wee hours of the morning and why.

\- _An Hour Later_ -

As soon as the former promiscuous nightclub singer returned back in the wayward home for girls, dressed up in the same attires from the night before as the coat was shielding her frail skeleton that scarcely jittered any single muscle.

When she parked her former boss's cab past the statue in the wayward home for girls' territory, the middle-aged lady got from the car as she listened some radio music, resulting to potter out in the background when the car's engine was no longer buzzing.

2 older nuns were wandering around the façade's area as they spotted the Bostonian getting from the cab, locking it which they drew their attentions promptly as if they have spotted an uninvited guest or rather their fellow sister wasn't armored in her ecclesiastical, somber, rigid raiment. Half-hearted, stern grins honed up in the corner of their lips, strolling up to her as their Mary Jane clicked and clicked, reproducing the click's choir.

"Oh shit!" Cold-blooded, impulsive muttering cuss webbed the younger lady's oral caverns as she was about a foot away from the both sisters of the church, who had galore questions for her.

"Good morning, Sister! You've been absent the entire night." The eldest nun said, fidgeting her slim, long fingers, looking up at Judy's hazelish-brown pools, finding herself lost and incapable of averting its stare.

At the moment, the blonde swallowed a solid lump, formed in her throat at the mention of her absence, catching her off guard momentarily as the detectives have exceedingly recognized its murderer's tracks, alluding them who has lastly committed the barbaric crime. Her fragile eyelids incessantly flapped its long, elegant eyelashes in blink as butterfly wings. The vigorous heart beats accelerated in her tautened ribs cage as its pulsations directly pulsated into her ears.

"Well, sometimes I have these nights when my absence is pretty evident, but I assure ya," The middle-aged woman paused, ambling up to the double front door, in order to step inside the grand, old building and march up to her dorm room to store her paraphernalia and the rest of her luggage in the suitcases. "Everything is fine. Nothing wrong has happened the last night and this morning!"

"By judging your current outfit, sister, it wasn't exactly an actual meeting with an old friend, was it?" The middle nun exclaimed rhetorically, attempting to test her juvenile colleague's patience with her deep voice, accentuating on her exclaimation.

"Even if it wasn't, is it yar business prying in my privacy? " The native Bostonian opted to keep her voice decibels as moderate as possible, without turning to them to link her eyes with their, pining to accomplish an eye contact. Ginormous vexation was brewing and cooking inside the almost former holy woman. "Sisters, don't be childish! Don't ya know how irritating is prying in somebody's private life even if they're nuns and they have no time for anything but that was my exceptional short period of time to take a break from the stuff I do here?" Moreover when they entered inside the façade as they followed her without giving up, she suddenly slammed her dorm room's door, locking herself up and not permitting them to be together in a four wall room.

First and foremost, the both sisters of the church, who were swamping the blonde with leery questions that have to do with the night before were alluding them Judy was involved in unholy acts by judging the more casual garments that hugged her svelte, howsoever, curvy body.

Since the Bostonian's arrival in Pittsburgh especially in the institution, she has never got along with Sister Laurence and Sister Irene, who were violating her personal space right now with their childish, unconditional inquisitiveness and speculating certain theories what she did the last night, why she is dressed like that and who was the person she met.

"So as your arrogance for not answering our questions but I don't blame you for your past and what you used to be!" Sister Laurence exhaled sharply then evoked out, rapping on the door violently with her balled fist, whereas Irene was clearing her throat dramatically before it was her turn to peel a single word. Meantime, muddy heat crawled underneath Judy's plump cheeks, subsequently tinting them ruddily.

In the interval, the younger lady tried her best to overlook the both taunting members of the clergy, utterly focusing on preparing her baggage within a handful of minutes and phone the Mother Superior for her official resignation of the church, being in every respect released from the hallowed missions and duties she used to be seized.

"Just let it go! Ya will get bored of taunting me!" The blonde recited a murmur, folding a couple of unfolded yet garments of her along with piece of lingerie she has stored in the lacquered, old wardrobe and caching them in the suitcase afterwards.

What the blonde has abstained was answering their heckling and jeering cautions, due to the fact it will aggravate the situation, consequently demonstrating hints of her immaturity of their endless conflict. She thought the foes will get tiresome easily when they receive no responses, nor any actions to the answers they're looking for.

"Think twice before your honesty plucks up than your old whorish manners, Judy!" It was Sister Irene, who resumed the infantile game that was boundlessly battlefield of jibes as they discreetly were losing the verbal war against their colleague. Thereafter wicked, mischievous giggles zinged the both elder women's lips as the juvenile holy woman snarled quietly, in fact, to not being heard by Irene and Laurence as their game has alerted her behavior even reactions. "I'm still wondering what have are you thinking to do in the future. To repent yourself for making it out with another stranger or to go to the church, ask for the Lord's forgiveness for your soul? So pathetic." The dirty blond-haired lady posed the questions in scoffing manner as their quiet titters weren't audible for the younger woman.

All of a sudden, Angelica and Yoanna as they were wandering, looking for their nana in the abysmal, long hallway, they ideally know almost each room from the wayward home for girls after having breakfast and noting 2 nuns beside Jude's dorm room door.

"Where's Nana?" The blond little girl questioned as the both sisters of the church arched their eyebrows at the children's sight, halting their diabolic, infantile games.

"Ah, Nana is in the dorm. Why?" The redhead lady asked with a mischievous, venomous smile, swaying across her lips.

"We'd like to see her." The other young girl replied bashfully, chewing her upper lip loathly.

"Alright, kids!" Sister Laurence said, patting affably, lightly the other member of the church's shoulder, encouraging her to get back to work and give up with taunting the Bostonian, pacing in the long, profound corridor of the façade.

Once the middle-aged lady finished with her luggage preparation and opening the dorm's door, she was met with her favorite children petite frames, standing before the door as she scooped them in a tight, warm hug.

"Angie and Yoanna, I'm so pleased to see both of ya!"

"We either, Nana!" The young girl whispered in velvety, ecstatic voice in unison as their tiny, pudgy arms were bracing the middle-aged woman's upper back once she crouched down to embrace them. "It has been ages since we have seen ya." Once they broke off the hug as their hearts melted, they took their time to admire and contemplate one another's parchment, shining complexions.

"Well, it was just for a night without me, sweethearts!" The almost former member of the church irony was vomited in her utterance, peppering their cheeks with tender, feather kisses as her smeared mauve soft as satin lips greased their facial skins. "It was wonderful night with my old friend."

"Oh!" Suddenly she ushered them to enter in the dorm room, factly, she has to explain some things which were against her revered reputation and divine career as a pious woman of the cloth and if a single face of the clergy acknowledges partly of her last night's story, otherwise she would lose her position and her reputation will diminish drastically even before her formal resignation. "What were ya doing?" Yoanna posed the question with childish, monstrous curiosity, oozing of her voice tone.

"Besides having a dinner, we talked and did some adult stuff. Or rather stuff for grown-up people." A husky, cheerful chuckle echoed her oral caverns as they were seating on the edge of the ordinary bed.

"I see." The young brunette lowered her voice suddenly until her strawberry brown irises were met with the suitcases, laying on the floor as a dew of moistness flooded her frail eyelids, tears verging to spring up and to well into her eyes, staining her porcelain, creamy complexion. "Are ya leaving us, Nana?" At the moment, she allowed weeping inwardly to herself as the jet crystal, bitter tears gush down on her cheeks. She found her heart sunk to spend her final moments with her favorite nun in the institution before fleeing for better.

"Not exactly! I'm just going to live with my old friend for the rest of my days and I've a present for ya, my darlings."

"What do ya mean with this, Nana?" The both pre-teens queried as one, whereas the juvenile blond wiped her friend's tears with her pudgy thumb, shushing and soothing her to subdue her weeps. "What's our present?"

"I'm going to gladly adopt ya and be part of our small family with my old friend."

"Oh wow! You're the best, auntie Judy!" In the meantime, the little girls got from the bed as they sped up to their mother figure as if they were in seventh heaven, clasping their arms around her frail skeleton as beaming, affectionate smiles swing upon their faces.

"Awww! You're the loveliest girls I've ever spoken to. And I'm completely sure he is going to approve ya."

"Is he decent?" The blond girl mumbled between the hug.

"Of course, he is! Believe me, he is harmless and he will be a loving Daddy of yars, while I'll be yar Mommy."

"Yayyy!"

\- _A Half an Hour Later _-

Once Judy signed the documents for adopting her favorite young girls and gathering their whole baggage along with hers even storing it in the vehicle, thereafter they hopped up blissfully in the vehicle as a radio music played in the background, chanting together on their way to the British aristocrat's property. The heavy rain has already stopped, resulting muddy and humid weather at the moment.

The both former orphans have never been that lucky and most of all, gleeful to being adopted in a wayward home for girls especially by a nun, who has currently devoted her life to the family and children.

When the former man of the cloth came to his senses, he came to the conclusion Jude was vanished and his one-story house was consumed by the devilish silence as if the death was building brick barriers, absorbing any sound that collided through the walls. Tremendous panic and morbid inquietude enveloped his mind and heart when he got clothed in casual, domestic garments and was brewing coffee for himself, sharing a lonely morning with the dead silence and the birds' chirping symphonies, encompassing his property.

A handful of questions whirled in his whirlpool of thoughts that were associated with his lover.

First of all, where she was gone? Second, what made her to use his car to flee far away? Third, what are her genuine motives to be no longer visible, fogging his mind with hazy, graphically explicit memories from the night before when he gave his virtue to her at last?

Once the buzzing choir of the cab emanated from outside, catching his attention exceedingly promptly as he sipped of the hot caffeine beverage, he goggled his chocolate brown pools to the window, noticing his rare bird getting from the car with her suitcases and 2 little girls. A sympathetic, radiant smile was tattooed on his still youthful, soft face.

"We're home, Timothy!" The middle-aged lady yelled jubilantly as the adopted children were the first visitors to step inside the cabin, whilst Timothy got from the kitchen table, heading towards the hall to welcome warmly not only his rara avis, moreover the young girls.

"What a wonderful surprise!" An elated exhale surged its oxygen from the top of his lungs as he gazed in awe at the former orphans, molting his heart like chocolate when they were taking off their coats and Judy was taking off hers, kicking off her stilettos. "You brought at home these precious treasures?"

"Yeah, I love them and I've decided they to be part of our small family, Tim!"

"H-Hi!" Angelica murmured demurely, when she met the younger man's eyes, ducking her head.

"Hi!" The blond girl greeted kindhearted the former Monsignor, extending her hand, offering a casual handshake.

"Hi sweeties! I'm Timothy, your Nana's old friend! What are your names?"

"I'm Yoanna and that's Angelica!" In the interval, the young girls shook their hands with the British compatriot as the middle-aged woman couldn't help but gape at them, admiring the platonic sight.

"What beautiful names!" All of a sudden, the juvenile blond and brunette couldn't suppress merry giggles, escaping their thin lips as the both adults joined them seconds before the native Bostonian helps them with setting the luggage in the guests' room where they're going to sleep.


	6. Family (Epilogue)

\- _3 Months Later_ -

\- _14th of February, 1965_ -

It has been 3 months since Judy and Timothy were living together with their adopted rays of sunshine, besides sharing galore of authentic moments together, recollecting piece of memories together as if they were on cloud nine.

Not only today was the Valentine's day, but also it was the couple's wedding. As they have organized their wedding was being a private one and celebrating it with their adopted children and Frank by their side.

In the past weeks, the middle-aged woman has been through the dynamic roller coaster of mood swings, food cravings and morning sicknesses, besides the drastic gain weight and change in her petite framed body, despite she was living a lie for 2 decades for being infertile and empty. Furthermore, Angelica, Yoanna and the British compatriot were aware of her unexpected, spontaneous pregnancy. Once they found the former sister of the church was carrying a fresh, new life inside her pregnant belly which was somewhat visible at the moment, the girls were mirthful, whereas Timothy was incredibly flabbergasted.

As the wedding day has loomed on the horizon, Angelica, Yoanna and Frank were clothed in exquisitely dashing outfits, incarnating the prominent event and the new chapter that the former devotional members of the church have already opened, in order to change their lives and be family people. The solely invited guests on the wedding ceremony were seating on the exquisitely polished pews, fixing their inquisitive, gleeful pools to the about to be wed couple as the elder priest stood between them as a gap.

In the interim, the British aristocrat was dressed up in neat, obsidian tuxedo with obsidian, orderly tied bowtie, embellishing his wedding outfit, whilst the blonde's wedding glimmering gown was ankle length with spaghetti, thin straps hugging her slightly pudgy petite frame as her wee bump was clearly obvious. A snow, satin veil veiled her dazzlingly coiffed French updo, eagerly anticipating the moment when the priest finishes with his tiresome canticles, jingling angelic, scared anthems into their sensitive ears and declaims rhetorically their wedlock.

"Do you take Timothy Howard as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?" It was high time when the elder man of the cloth concluded with the bland canticles and the recited prayers for the almost wed couple, earning their inquiring, agitated stares, transfixed on his wrinkled, parchment complexion as his jaded, nonchalant, fueled with sheer benevolence and innocence midnight black pools were linked up with the former nun's honey brown orbs. A humble, demure smile cradled her ravishing red lips, lacing them in scintillating radiance.

"Yes, I do!" The middle-aged lady replied in honeyed voice as her lip curled at the reply, then exhaling abruptly as its oxygen surged her sensitive nostrils.

"Mr. Howard, do you take Judy Martin as your lawful wife, to have and to hold," As the older man verged to resume his utterance, it was the British compatriot who cut him off curtly, clearing his throat, his rhetorical declaim abiding unfinished.

"Yes, of course!"

"You may kiss the bride!" The holy man declared with mild jubilation, vomited in his declaration, whilst Judy's soft, plumpish lips pursued her husband's naturally berry-coloured, sealing hers with his in a brief, hardening steamy kiss as their eyelids fluttered shut in slits shape. Muffled moans heaving from the top of their lungs, whilst vigorous, merry applauds boated in the background due to Frank and the former orphans' clapping hands.

"Woohoo! It was high time for this miracle to happen!" The former cop squealed ecstatically as content, beaming grins bloomed on their faces.

"They are the prettiest couple I've ever seen!" The brunette girl exclaimed in rejoicing manner shortly after the applauds subdued in the background and the recently wed couple rushed up to outdoors as the former man of the cloth lifted in a bridal lift his wife, roaming recklessly around the church their wedlock is taking its place.

"I can't agree more! I couldn't be luckier and happier when they adopted us." Yoanna said.

Eventually the best St. Valentine's present the former saint members of the church have received was actually their divine wedding and commencing to rewrite their ethereally timeless love story.

\- *** -  
\- _5 Months Later _-

\- _24th of July, 1965_ -

"Waaaahhhhh!" The first uncontrollable, high-pitched cry surged the newborn child's tiny lungs as the sole doctor, who was in the patient's room, accompanying the small family, whilst Judy was laboring and spreading widely her legs. Her patient, rigid lesen robe's hem was flaring her knees, exposing her core and baptized in ruddy tints the nameless baby.

Meantime, Angelica and Yoanna were sitting on the right side of the bed, squeezing tightly with their wee hands her larger, creamy as satin hand. The former holy man was seating on the left side, grasping firmly his wife's hand, emboldening her to not lose faith and supporting her during the nursing process.

It has been a handful of hours since the former licentious nightclub singer's water broke, besides experiencing agonizing and morbidly sore contractions in her abdomen, leading to her subsequent transport to the hospital without an ado and commencing the pushes which were draining its physical stamina of her body muscles.

"It's a girl!" The female doctor, who was in the beginning of her 30s, wearing a charming, affable smile, swaying across her lips swaddled in a warm, cotton cloth the newborn daughter of the Howards, throughout handing it to her mother.

"Aww, hello, little angel!" All of a sudden, the middle-aged mother scooped in a heartmelting, doting hug the unnamed ray of sunshine, whose cries subdued due to her encouraging shushing, harmonizing her lips like harmonica. "I'm yar mothar." She carried on with her honeyed whisper, pinching lightly, gamely her biological daughter's button nose which she has inherited from her mother big caramel brown orbs and the curly hair texture altogether with the petite, sensitive ears. Nonetheless the new family member possessed her father's chestnut hair pigment, pale as vanilla skin tone, his eyebrows and baby pinkish lips.

"Aww, she's so cute!" The both adopted young girls squealed, contemplating in awe their little sister, stroking gingerly, featherly her sparse chestnut hair, admiring its softness as their fingers raked. Once the pair of azure and strawberry brown eyes transfixed on the nameless infant, they quickly found themselves lost in their sibling's delirious, intoxicating cuteness as they have already discovered the Pandora box's paradoxal, mystic and sinful mysteries that inebriated their aroused interest.

"I can't disagree with you! She's definitely such a precious princess!" The former holy man couldn't agree more with Angelica and Yoanna, chuckling together.

"Have you thought of naming her?" It was the younger former orphan, who posed the question seriously and frantically in the same time.

"Oh yes, of course, sweethearts!" The blonde emitted a husky, jovial titter, tickling her throat and corners of her mouth without averting her astounded stare from the newborn. "I'm going to name her Corinne!"

"Corinne?" They asked as one as an audience ensemble, chanting along with the singer the choir phrase by phrase.

"Yeah! Don't ya like the name of our precious little girl?"

"Of course, Mommy! Corinne is a gorgeous name for our little sister." The juvenile brunette retaliated, inhaling the baby scent that taunted her sensitive nostrils.

"Corinne Martin Howard, welcome to our small family and being a wonderful addition to it!" The middle-aged mother commenced with her jubilant canticle, curling her lips in content, shining smile upon her parchment, baptized in perspiration complexion. Moreover, the brunette and juvenile blond found themselves quickly becoming fond of Corinne in no time.

\- _6 Years Later _-

\- _26th of September, 1971_ -

The years flew as swiftly as cupid arrows, darted to the target.

Not only Yoanna and Angelica were already teenagers, but also their younger sister, Corinne was attending regularly school and receiving usually decent marks on the majority of the school subjects. The former orphans were recently attending high school.

As affectionate and caring parents, Jude and Timothy preferred to stay at home since they loved the nature vibes and aesthetics that encompassed them the forest, itself.

In the meanwhile, whilst the middle-aged lady was washing the dishes in the sink, swaying her hips as the interweaving symphony of the wreaking map of rain drops and the recently playing song on the radio, thrumming inwardly, melodically to herself and relishing the musical moment in the kitchen, Yoanna and Angelica were helping their younger sibling with her homework, seating altogether on the cherry wood, refinedly polished bureau as textbooks and notebooks were the top items which were sheeting the piece of furniture's top. At the moment, Timothy was dancing, tiptoeing up to his wife as her adroit, elvish hands held and lathering the filthy, already used glasses and dishes, her lips motioning.

"_Beneath this snowy mantle cold and clean__! __The unborn grass lies waiting__ f__or its coat to turn to green__! __The snowbird sings the song he always sings__ a__nd speaks to me of flowers__ t__hat will bloom again in spring__!_" It was Anne Murray's song Snowbird currently playing on the radio as her eloquent voice accentuated on the lyrics.

All of a sudden, she could feel two pair of strong, muscular arms snaking around her waist as pitons, asphyxiating her slim waist muscles, cocking forward his head, his chin resting delicately on her shoulder as at first, she couldn't help but startle even flinching and gasping confoundly.

"I swear, darling, ya scared the hell out of me!" The Bostonian couldn't repress giggle as her husband joined her, washing the remaining dishes and glasses before setting them with the rest of the already washed ones. Meantime, he inhaled inwardly the alluring hair fragrance that toyed with him.

"I didn't mean to. It's a lovely rainy day but not as lovely as my wife, who washes the dishes and glasses."

"I'm about to finish this task extremely soon even within a half a minute only."

In the interval, the horde of girls walked in the kitchen, swaying their hips as soon as they were embraced not only with the sight of their parents, further, the currently playing song on the radio as it was plugged in the contact.

"Mom and dad!" The both adolescents addressed their parents, in order to earn their prompt attentions as they turned momentarily to them, whilst the middle-aged lady wedged her naturally rosy-coloured, soft as velvet lips in a reluctant purse. "It looks like you're having so much fun."

"Oh yeah! We do, darlings!" The older lady riposted slyly, winking at them mischievously, gamely as she wiped her once drenched hands.

"_When I was young my heart was young then too__! __Anything that it would tell me__! __That's the thing that I would do__ b__ut now I feel such emptiness within__ f__or the thing that I want most in life's__ t__he thing thing that I can't win__!_"

"Haven't you thought of snapping a family photo, all of us together?" Timothy suggested as he released the former woman of the cloth from his gripping embrace and delving in the drawers for the Polaroid photo camera.

"Sure!" The young girl didn't repress the agreement, zinging her lips, bobbing her head humbly.

"Why not?" The both high schoolers replied rhetorically in unison as they began posing for the family photo, whereas the former priest was setting warily the camera stick holder and the Polaroid camera in the same time.

"Be ready in 5, 4, 3," Meanwhile, Timothy cried out loud, counting the remaining seconds before the photograph was snapped at last, speeding up to the blonde, posing to her as beaming, gleeful smiles danced upon their faces.

"Say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

\- THE END -

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank everybody, who took their time not only to read the story along with voting it, but also commenting it and speaking their minds which I genuinely appreciate and expressing their additional support, encouraging me to keep on with writing!**

**Nonetheless that was the final chapter of Seperated in Pittsburgh. If you're eagerly looking forward for anything to read from me, the one-shot series, Orphan in Limbo and Wings of Light are the projects that are ongoing. **

**In addition to, if we exclude Orphan in Limbo and Wings of Light, there are still 5 more Nunsignor future projects until the series are finished unless another short story or otherwise a longer one pops up in my mind, adding one more book to the one of the longest book series I've ever written for 2 years of writing. Feel free to drop your ideas for future Nunsignor stories or another ships! **

Alex xoxo❤❤


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